Cold Day In November
by GrayWolf84
Summary: When the General Lee is stolen, the Dukes land in a whole mess of trouble when it turns up again. Sequel to OAMN. Rated T for action violence and an assortment of the usual. Feedback welcome.
1. And It Started As Such A Good Day

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C**old Day In November**

**Chapter 1: And It Started As Such A Good Day**

**Y'all may remember, a little while back, when the Dukes had a little run in with some bad ol' boys down from Virginia one moonlit night. A senator and his wife were murdered, with Daisy as a witness, and the Dukes got caught in the crossfire between the FBI and a gang of mercenaries-for-hire doing the dirty work for some Washington politician. It all turned out alright in the end - the bad guys went to prison, the Dukes received a hefty reward and the thanks of the federal government, and the two wounded warriors, Bo and Luke, spent the rest of the summer being waited on hand and foot while they healed up. As you can imagine, they got pretty tired of it pretty quick, and were just itchin' to get back into the swing of things - especially Luke, whose busted leg kept him grounded a whole lot longer than his younger cousin.**

**Well, it's November now, and Luke finally got that cast off last week, just in time for a solid week of rain to keep the boys indoors and off the slick roads. It wasn't that Bo and Luke didn't love to go muddin' in the General, but the cold wet weather put Uncle Jesse in the mood to work on a few things around the farmhouse, and he asked Daisy and the boys for their help. Never ones to refuse their uncle's requests, they spent the week sweeping and dusting, cleaning out cabinets and corners, washing the windows, organizing boxes of old pictures and papers, and all manner of tidying up. When Friday dawned bright and sunny, the farmhouse practically gleamed with their efforts, and Bo and Luke were looking for any excuse to get out before Jesse could think up something new.**

"Let's call Cooter up, see if he wants to help us work on the General," Luke suggested. He and Bo sat at the kitchen table, finishing coffee after breakfast. They hadn't yet seen Uncle Jesse - Daisy said he'd headed out to the fields early to check for flooding and washout from the rain.

"Sounds good to me," Bo agreed, and picked up the CB mike. "This is Lost Sheep callin' Crazy Cooter, you gotcher ears on ol' buddy? Come back." He waited a few moments for a response, and was about to call again when the mike crackled.

_"Hey there Lost Sheep, this is Cooter, but I don't got time to talk, buddy, I got Boss Hogg breathin' down my neck to fix Lulu's Rolls by noon and another dozen cars waitin' after that."_

"A dozen cars? What happened, someone hold a demolition derby and not invite us?"

_"Where've you been, Bo? I've been hoppin' all week, towin' cars that slid off the road, couple 'o crashes, one real bad one on Tuesday, sent a couple 'o folks to the hospital - I don't think I can fix that one."_

"We've been hoppin' too," Bo replied glumly. "Uncle Jesse's kept us busy around the house doin' chores. That's why we called you, we're looking for somethin' to do so he doesn't keep us in again."

_"Well, if yer lookin' for somethin' to do, I could use your help - I got a load of parts waitin' to be picked up in Chickasaw, that I sure could use - I haven't had time to get out there and get them. If you and Luke would go out there for me, I'd sure be grateful."_

Bo looked hopefully at Luke, who took the mike. "Cooter, you know we can't cross the county line without permits, we're on probation."

_"Well, Lucas Dukas, I'll just tell Boss that I can't fix Lulu's Rolls without those parts, and he'll have Rosco waitin' for you at the county line with your permits when you get there!"_

Luke grinned at Bo from across the table - finally! "Sounds like a big 10-4 to me, ol' buddy, where do we pick them up from?"

Cooter gave them directions, and promised he'd call ahead so they'd be ready when the Dukes got there. Then he signed off, and Luke replaced the mike.

"Well alright!" Bo exclaimed, sitting back in his chair.

"Alright what?" Uncle Jesse was coming inside through the back door, careful to leave his muddy boots outside.

Luke turned around in his chair. "Oh, we, ah, just told Cooter we'd go pick up some parts for him in Chickasaw. He's been flat out busy all week, and needs them for some repairs he's doin' - he's even gonna get Boss to give us travel permits."

"Oh." Jesse looked thoughtful for a moment, entering the kitchen to pour himself a hot cup of coffee. "Alright, then. I was gonna ask you boys if you wanted to go out huntin' today, 'cause there's not much but beans for supper tonight."

Luke immediately felt guilty - he'd forgotten that both money and supplies were running a little low, but they had already promised Cooter, and he _really_ wanted to get out of the house.

"We'll go out tomorrow, Uncle Jesse," Bo promised.

"Well okay," Jesse consented. " But drive careful, the roads are gonna be real slick out there."

"We will," Luke said, standing. Bo took the cue and stood too, stepping aside to push his chair back into place. "We better head out, so we don't keep Cooter waiting," Luke excused them as Jesse took a swallow of coffee. Their uncle waved goodbye over his shoulder, and they were out the door without another word.

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Sheriff Rosco P. Coltrane had been waiting at the county line on the Chickasaw Road for nearly an hour, and he was not in a good mood.

"I tell you, Flash, one of these days I'm gonna get them Duke boys, and I'm gonna…and they're gonna…" He was at a loss for words, thinking of how happy he'd be when they were in jail and out of his hair. Flash, his basset hound, gave him a droopy stare and yawned, bored.

The radio crackled to life._ "Rosco! Rosco, where are you, answer me!"_ Flash barked a bass woof at Boss Hogg's voice. Rosco jumped, startled, and reached into the parked cruiser. Fumbling, he dropped the mike on the seat, leaned in farther to grab it, and fell in entirely. Crumpled on one shoulder, upside down and hat crooked, he answered Boss's call.

"This is Sheriff Ros-co _P._ Col-trane here, go ahead little fat buddy."

_"Rosco! You idiot! And I am not your little fat buddy! Now, did the Dukes get there yet?"_

"N-no sir, Boss, not yet, I've been waitin', and…"

_"Well then you keep waitin'! Make sure they get those permits! Lulu…"_

"…My fat sister…"

_"…Your fat sister, needs her car for the Ladies' Auxillary Auction tonight, and Cooter can't fix it without those parts!"_

"Ooo! And when the Dukes boys have delivered the parts, I can arrest them for forging illegal travel permits?"

_"Rosco, you will do no such thing!"_

"Well, why not, Boss?"

_"Because Cooter still has to fix my car after you crashed into it yesterday!"_

"Well Boss, that road was awful slippery, and I did have the ri…"

_"Rosco! If you don't quit jawin' and get back to watchin' the road, you're…"_

"…Gonna be watchin' the night counter…"

_"…Gonna be watchin' the night counter…"_

"…At Dizzy Lovak's all-night corner store…"

_"…At Dizzy Lovak's all-night corner store…"_

"…On Charlton Road…"

_"…On Charlton Road! Now get on it!"_

Rosco hung up the mike, muttering to Flash as he disentangled himself from the car. Standing up straight, he dusted off his uniform and put his hat on straight just in time to see the Duke boys drive up in the General Lee.

**Now, the reason it took the Dukes so long to get there was that they took the long way 'round, and managed to go through every puddle and mud slick in the north end of the county in the process. That's why the General is lookin' awful brown, instead of the usual orange - too bad they didn't go through the creek and clean him off, too.**

"Mornin' Rosco!" Bo greeted cheerily out the passenger-side window, still laughing over coming around the bend of the road and seeing Rosco's legs sticking out of the cruiser's window.

"Don't you 'mornin' me, Bo Duke!" Rosco replied crossly, fumbling to pull the permits out from his shirt pocket. "You just get out there and come back quick-like, y'hear? Boss wants Lulu's car fixed by noon, and…"

Bo took the permits from his hand, and waved as Luke gunned the engine. "Bye', Rosco!" he called, waving out the window and ignoring the sheriff's haughty instructions.

Tripping over his own tongue, as usual, Rosco couldn't get out a good reply until the Dukes were long gone. "Bo Duke!" he finally spat angrily, throwing his hat to the ground and stopping just shy of stomping on it. Flash regarded him for a moment, then settled back comfortably onto her seat with a groan.

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It didn't take Bo and Luke long at all to find Cooter's autoparts supplier, and they loaded up the backseat and truck with scads of boxes, small and large, and a pair of tires too. It was maybe 11am, and though neither of them was in a hurry to get back, they called Cooter on the CB from in front of the store just to make sure.

"Lost Sheep callin' Crazy Cooter, gotcher ears on? Come back."

_"Crazy Cooter comin' atcha, Lost Sheep, what's the word?"_

"Well, Cooter, we've got the parts…what time did you say you needed them by?"

_"Weeeell, this Rolls is takin' me longer than I thought, I don't think I'll get to any of the rest until maybe three - why, you thinkin' of doin' some sight-seein'?"_

"Something like that," Luke said, turning in the driver's seat to watch a slender young woman walk past, long golden-brown hair swaying down her back. Bo, who wasn't attached to the CB, greeted her with his most charming smile, but she walked right past the both of them in the General, trying to suppress a giggle. She looked back over her shoulder at the pair, but kept on going. Bo watched longingly until she was out of sight.

_"Luke! You there, buddy?"_

"Oh! Yeah. So, three? Sounds like we've got a little time then - might as well make use of these travel permits. Know any good places out this way? The roads are awful for jumps, but there's plenty of mud."

_"You still at Patterson's?"_

"Yeah, just out front."

_"Go in and ask John to point you toward Oldhall Road - it leads back into Hazzard, and there's some good spots out there. Lots of old tracks where they used to race, before the Chickasaw sheriff shut them down."_

"Sounds great, Cooter. Thanks - we'll see you at three. Lost Sheep out."

It took a quick moment for Bo and Luke to run back inside for directions. Holding a map scrawled on a piece of notebook paper, they thanked John Patterson and headed back to the General. Stepping outside, though, they were greeted by the less-than-welcome sight of Sheriff Little, standing with his arms crossed in front of the driver's side door. Both Dukes stopped in their tracks - their run-ins with the man had been thankfully few but too many just the same.

"I seem to recall that Beauregard and Lucas Duke, the owners of this…car, are not to leave Hazzard County under the terms of their probation. So I saw their car here, and wondered just what business they had here in Chickasaw, where they are _not_ welcome," the sheriff enlightened them with a deep frown, eyes hidden behind his sunglasses.

"Aw, Sheriff, we're just pickin' up some car parts for our buddy Cooter, and we're headed home right now. We've even got travel permits, signed by Boss Hogg himself," Luke explained while Bo tried to look as innocent as he could. They both pulled out their permits from their respective pockets and offered them to the irritable man. He inspected them for a moment, frowning deeper as he saw that every last i was dotted and t was crossed. He handed the permits back, and stepped aside.

"Then Hazzard County must be missing two such law-abiding citizens. You'd best return before your own good sheriff gets worried,"Little advised with ill-concealed menace.

"And let Chickasaw County lose out on all we have to offer? Now that wouldn't be very fair of us, would it, Luke?" Bo refused to be pushed around by the cantankerous sheriff - they were perfectly legal this time, too!

"Why no, Bo, that wouldn't be fair at all," Luke agreed, watching the sheriff carefully…no need to push him too far.

The uniformed man full-out scowled this time, and shook an angry finger at the both of them. "I want you Dukes out of here by sundown, and if I so much as catch you jaywalking, you'll find yourselves in jail quicker than a wolf on a wounded deer," he swore.

Luke held his hands up innocently. "Okay, okay! We're going!" He edged around the sheriff and climbed into the front seat. Bo jogged around the back and climbed in on his side, and under the sheriff's watchful eye, they turned around and headed back towards Hazzard.

On the road, Bo looked over at his cousin. "We aren't really going back now, are we?"

"Of course not," Luke said, handing Bo the hand-drawn map. "Here, navigate."

"O-kay," Bo looked at the map. He hadn't really been listening to the store owner when he explained it, instead watching out the window ata cute blond who was talking to an older woman just across the street.

"You're holding it sideways, Bo."

"Oh! Oh, uh, turn left up here…wait, sorry! Right…" He turned the map back the other way.

A wrong turn or two later, and they found the place - a broad open field, with dips and depressions and hillocks and knolls, surrounded by a worn curving track and a half-hearted attempt at a fence.

"Beau-ti-ful," Bo whistled, seeing the potential in the site. "Why is it we never heard about this place?"

"Does it matter?"

"Not at all."

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It was a good two hours before Luke even looked at the time. He mentioned it in passing to Bo, who was then at the wheel sending the General skidding sideways down a slope into a massive puddle. Luckily, they had cranked the windows up, because the resulting sheet of mud and water washed clear across the entire length of the car. Bo whooped and floored the gas, throwing mud high into the air as the car spun off across the field again. Luke pointed out another knoll to head for on the Duke's newest playground. He promptly forgot his own comment as Bo raced for it and found the hillock wasn't nicely curved, but dropped off sheer on the other side, launching the racecar into the air to land with mucky splash. Another target came into sight, and another, and another, before Bo offered to let Luke drive again. He stopped the car on a relatively dry spot, and he got out so Luke could slid over and take the wheel. While Bo climbed back in, Luke glanced at the clock again - it was 2:30.

"Hey Bo? I hate to cut this short, but we're due back by three, an' even the way we drive we'll be pushing it."

"Aw, man!" Bo looked at the clock and knew his cousin was right. "Alright, let's go then."

Luke hit one more knoll on the way across the field. "We'll come back," he said aloud, a promise to all three of them - Luke, Bo, and the General Lee. Mud dripped off the orange paint as he sped down the road back towards Hazzard.

A few miles down the unfamiliar road, they came around a bend and Luke immediately braked and slowed down. The young women sat on the rear bumper of an RV the was pulled onto the side of the road, sporting a flat tire. The RV leaned just at the edge of the road above a deep water-filled ditch. Both women jumped up at the sight of the car, waving their arms.

"Luke, we don't have much time," Bo reminded his cousin, eyes on the two women.

"Then we'll have to make this quick," Luke replied, pulling up behind the RV. "Howdy, ladies!" he greeted, climbing out of the car as the pair walked up. "Bit of tire trouble?"

"Oh, yes! We've been sitting here for _hours_, not a soul has driven past! Thank you so much!" one exclaimed, a dark-haired beauty. "My name's Selena, and this is my friend Charlotte. We're on our way south, and got a bit side-tracked seeing some of the sights."

Bo smiled broadly at the shapely blond who walked up to his side of the car. "Nice to meet you, Selena and Charlotte. I'm Bo Duke, and this is my cousin Luke."

"Looks like you boys have had a bit of car trouble yourself," Charlotte commented, eyeing the mud-covered General.

"Oh, no trouble," Bo grinned wider. "Just a bit of fun in the mud."

"Mmm, I think I like the way you country boys play," Charlotte stepped in closer to Bo.

"Let's have a look at that tire," Luke said loudly, before his cousin was lost beyond hope of helping.

"Oh…right!" Bo said, and quickly walked over to examine the flat, now the gallant mechanic. "Aw, we can change this out in a jiff," he announced.

Luke unhooked the spare from the rear of the RV while Bo fetched the jack and tire iron from the General. It didn't take them long at all to life the RV on the jack, spin off the lug nuts, and secure the spare. Bo lowered the jack while Luke stood back and wiped his hands on his jeans.

"There you go, that should hold at least until you can get a new tire," Luke said. Both women stood beside him, watching the whole job appreciatively.

"Thank you so much!" Selena said again. "Will you join us for a late lunch? Oh, you must!" she insisted as Luke began to shake his head.

"I'm real sorry, we'd like to, but me an' Bo promised a friend we'd get him these car parts, and we're running even later now."

Charlotte put a hand on Bo's arm and looked up at his blue eyes. "Can't you at least take a glass of lemonade? We've got a fresh pitcher just inside," she asked invitingly.

Bo looked at Luke beseechingly. "Aw, come on Luke! A few minutes won't hurt."

The elder Duke cousin relented - he wasn't in a great hurry to leave the lovely ladies himself, and Cooter would understand. "Alright, just a few minutes."

Selena and Charlotte looked delighted. "You boys stay here, now, and we'll be right back," Selena promised.

As they walked around the side of the RV, Bo joined Luke leaning against the hood of the General, swatting his cousin in the ribs. Luke chuckled, rubbing one hand on his jaw.

**Now, maybe it's just me, but doesn't it seem a mite coincidence that two lovely damsels in distress happened to be stranded on the one deserted road that Bo and Luke were driving down?**

A few minutes later, the two women returned bearing four tall glasses of lemonade. Bo and Luke each accepted a glass, taking a careful sip. It was sweet and delicious, and Bo said as much.

"It's an old family recipe," Charlotte explained.

"So where're you gals headed?" Luke asked curiously. It wasn't often a couple of women traveled by themselves, a long distance by their northern accents.

"We're working our way to Florida, from Ohio," Selena explained. "We're taking the scenic route, though - we've been on the road some three weeks now."

"In this thing?" Bo asked, surprised. "What a way to live!"

"Would you like to see it?" Charlotte asked him. He nodded, caught taking a few more swallows of the lemonade. "Well come on this way!" she led the way to the door on the side.

Luke and Selena stayed by the General. "Don't you like Charlotte's lemonade?" she asked.

"No, this is great!" Luke insisted, downing some more. "I think my cousin Daisy would love the recipe." He could see Bo and Charlotte through the rear window as she showed him around, but coyly shook off his advances. Shortly, they were headed back out. He snorted laughter as Bo stumbled stepping out of the RV, but his laughter was cut short when his cousin fell to his knees, looking up at Charlotte with a strange expression. Luke took a few steps forward, halting when his own vision began to tilt. Bo had collapsed, and lay sprawled on the grass. Luke looked back at Selena, who was watching him with a vicious smile.

"You don't look so good, hayseed," she commented, stepping forward.

Luke wavered and stumbled backwards, a shout of protest cut off as he blacked out and fell, rolling down the slope into the ditch below. Selena followed his limp body down, stopping to search him for the keys to the General and making sure he didn't lay facedown in the water. It wouldn't do for him to drown. She held up the keys triumphantly to Charlotte.

"Let's get going. They're expecting us by six."

The two vixens drove off in the RV and the hijacked General Lee, leaving the Duke cousins unconscious on the side of the road.

**Something tells me those girls aren't after Cooter's car parts. Come on, boys, get up! That's the General they're stealin'!**

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	2. Old Friends

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Chapter 2: Old Friends

_"This is Cooter callin' Uncle Jesse, gotcher ears on, Jesse? Come back."_

"Cooter, I ain't your Uncle Jesse."

_"Yes sir, Uncle Jesse. Have Bo and Luke come back yet?"_

"No, I haven't heard or seen a thing from them since they left. I thought they were supposed to get you those parts this afternoon?"

_"So did I. Last I heard, they were heading to the old dirt fields off Oldhall Road in Chickasaw before coming back. Bo an' Luke are my friends, but I'm gonna be mighty mad if they're playin' out there still. I'm plumb out of work without those parts."_

"What time were you expecting them?"

_"About three hours ago."_

"It's not like them to be that late. You couldn't raise them on the CB?"

_"No sir."_

"Well, let's give it a bit longer. I did keep 'em cooped up in the house all week, and they might've just forgot if they're havin' fun. If we don't hear from them by sunset, I'll go out and have a look for them."

_"Yes sir, Uncle Jesse. I'll let you know if I hear from them. I'm gone."_

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At about that same time, Bo was stirring on the grass at the side of Oldhall Road. He unsteadily picked himself up and put a hand to his head, looking for the crack in his skull that gave him such a splitting headache. He blearily looked around in the dim shadows fallen on the road as the sun sank behind the trees. Not much to see - an empty dirt road, with a few dried drops of mud where the General had been, and nothing at all where the RV had been. He took a step forward, and his foot kicked his discarded lemonade glass. His heart sank in his chest, realizing what had happened to him and Luke. Luke! Bo looked around quickly, and spotted his cousin lying in the ditch, up to his chest in rainwater.

"Luke!" Bo ran over, relieved to see his cousin was breathing. Grabbing him by the underarms, Bo hauled him out of the water onto drier land, and knelt beside him. "Luke! Wake up, man!" He shook his shoulder roughly.

Luke groaned, wincing before he even opened his eyes. "Bo?" He looked up at his cousin's concerned face.

"I've got some bad news for you, cuz."

Luke picked himself up and staggered a step or two before finding his balance. "Let me guess," he said, rubbing a hand at his temple as they walked up the embankment. "The General's gone, with the girls and the RV."

"You got it."

"So much for chivalry."

"What do we do now?"

Luke surveyed his soaked clothes and looked up and down the desolate dirt road. "Well…we walk. It's fifteen miles back that way to Chickasaw, with the sheriff waiting to arrest us on sight just for existing, or it's who-knows how many miles that way back to Hazzard. Flip a coin, cause I don't much like the odds either way."

"If I had one to flip. Let's head for Hazzard. At least that's territory we know."

"Sounds fair to me. Atchoo!" Luke sneezed. He reached for his handkerchief, only to realize it was as wet as the rest of him. Bo offered him a clean dry one. "Come on, it's gonna be a long walk."

With heavy hearts, empty stomachs, and pounding headaches, the Duke boys set out east along the dirt road. The girls weren't lying earlier when they said they hadn't seen a car all afternoon - it was as lonely a road as the boys had ever seen, with not a farmhouse for miles. The temperature dropped quickly as the sun set and the shadows on the road deepened. Luke was shivering before long. To make matters worse, his newly healed leg grew more stiff and sore with every mile, not used to the effort, and he started lagging behind his cousin. As soon as Bo noticed, he called a stop. Luke was glad of the rest no matter the reason, and eased onto a log fallen by the roadside while Bo disappeared into the woods to, ah, find a tree. After a few minutes he came back out, and found Luke rubbing his arms, trying to get warm.

"Here," Bo said, pulling off his tan long-sleeved outer shirt. "Take that wet jacket off, put this on."

Luke hesitated for a moment - he didn't want Bo to be cold in his t-shirt either - but agreed, pulling off his soaked denim jacket and plaid shirt and accepting the offered shirt. Bo was a bit skinnier than him, but the shirt fit well enough, and was much warmer against his skin than his own wet clothes. There was nothing to be done for his jeans and wet boots, though, and he still shivered some. Well, sitting around wasn't gonna get him anywhere warm, so he stood up, holding his wet clothes in one hand.

"Ready to go?" he asked, taking a couple limping steps forward.

"Here, Luke," Bo said. He came around Luke's right side and pulled Luke's arm around his shoulders, so his cousin could lean on him for support. They tried a couple experimental steps, and when Luke found how much it helped, he thanked his cousin.

"Well, Uncle Jesse's likely to whup the both of us if we're not home for church Sunday, so…" Bo joked, trying to lighten the predicament.

Luke chuckled, and they hobbled along. The evening breeze was cool on both of them now, and Luke figured they had made maybe three or four miles in a little less than two hours - not very good time. He had hoped they'd see a sign of life by now.

"How do you figure we're gonna find the General?" Bo asked what both of them had been thinking in the silence.

"I don't know…For starters, we ought to report it stolen, and let Cooter know…Cooter!" Luke exclaimed. "All his parts were in there! Aw, he's gonna kill us!"

"Us? It was you who stopped, if I remember right."

"Yeah, and it was you who was trippin' over yourself to change that tire. But fightin' about it ain't gonna get us anywhere," Luke added as Bo started to protest indignantly. "Let's just concentrate on getting home first, and then we can figure out what to do from there."

They walked on in silence as full dark settled on the land and the stars came out, with a reluctant three-quarter moon trudging through the sky. The moonlight lit the countryside like a bright spotlight on a stage, and the going was easier once the Dukes could see the road clearly. Once they frightened a small herd of deer feeding in the underbrush, reminding Luke of his bow. He was glad they'd left both bows behind this time to save room in the trunk.

A hollow sound made Luke stop - the sound of a distant engine. Bo heard it too, and they listened to see if it was coming closer - it was. Soon headlights appeared bright in the darkness, headed towards Chickasaw, and they stepped towards the side of the road, waving at the driver. The pickup truck slowed down and stopped beside them, engine rumbling, and an unfamiliar man leaned over towards the passenger side.

"Need a lift? You boys look a bit tired," the friendly old man offered.

"Well sure, mister, we…" Bo began, reaching for the door handle.

Luke put a cautionary hand on his cousin's arm, once bitten twice shy. "Hang on, Bo. Our car got hijacked from us a ways down the road," he explained to the driver, "and we've been walking for a while. We'd appreciate a ride, but you'll understand if I'm a little wary of another stranger on this road."

"Bo?" The grey-haired man asked. "Bo Duke? And little Luke? Are you Jesse Duke's boys?"

"Sure are, mister - do we know you?" Bo asked with a friendly smile.

"Why sure! I haven't seen you boys since you was little pups! How's Jesse doin'?" Seeing Luke's dubious expression, he bit back his enthusiasm and introduced himself. "My name's Jed Hawkins. I live back in Chickasaw just at the other end of this road, in what used to be Willet Hall that this road is named for. It's Hawkins Hall now, since my son bought it."

Hawkins…Hawkins…the name rang a bell with Luke. He squinted at the grizzled face. "You used to come over for Sunday dinner every week, for a while," he remembered. Bo looked at the man, trying to recall. "You were only four, Bo. I was nine. But you stopped coming."

Hawkins smiled gently. "Yes, your Uncle Jesse was mighty kind to me after the missus died. My son was at medical school in Chicago, we hardly talked, and I was all alone, so Jesse had me join your family for dinner once a week. And you boys and your cousin Daisy couldn't get enough of the rock candy I'd bring for you."

"Oh!" Bo exclaimed. Now he knew the man.

"Of course, you mention food and he remembers," Luke remarked to Hawkins.

"Well, would you boys like a ride, or you gonna stand out there all night?" he reminded them. This time Bo and Luke both eagerly climbed up into the truck cab. Hawkins closed the windows and cranked up the heat, noting Luke's wet clothing. "Are you still at the farm on Mill Pond Road?" he asked, turning the truck around.

"There'd be ten generations of Dukes rolling in their graves if we wasn't," Bo half-joked.

"I imagine so," Hawkins replied, familiar with the Duke heritage and personality.

As he drove, they talked, telling him of the day's misadventure, of Uncle Jesse, of themselves. Luke could see that walking this road would have taken them all night and most of the next day before they saw a single farmhouse, it was so little used. Hawkins said it used to all be land owned by the Willet plantation way back in the day, but now the parcels that had been sold off were lined rear to rear along Oldhall Road, with homesteads and driveways facing paved roads across the long fields and forests. He liked to drive it because it was so peaceful and quiet, and it offered excellent hunting. There were two deer, a buck and a doe, in the bed of the pickup. Bo was impressed with the eleven-point kill, and said as much, asking about Hawkin's strategy. The old man was about to explain when another set of headlights appeared down the road, coming towards them from Hazzard. Luke recognized the familiar headlights first.

"That's Uncle Jesse's truck."

"He must be out here lookin' for us," Bo concluded correctly. Hawkins slowed his truck to a stop and flashed his lights to Jesse, who likewise slowed and stopped.

"Boys, is that you?" he called from the truck cab through the open window. Hawkins rolled his down, and Luke shivered at the blast of cold air.

"Yeah, it's us Uncle Jesse!" Bo called back.

"And…well I'll be, Jed Hawkins!" Jesse exclaimed. "I haven't seen you for nigh twenty years!"

"Well, I've been away for nigh twenty years, since I moved north to live with my son. We've moved back here now, in Chickasaw, a few months back - he wants to open up a practice down here," Jed explained.

"Thank you for pickin' up the boys…I'm sure I want to hear this story. I'll take 'em from here, though, no need for you to drive all the way back across Hazzard tonight."

Bo and Luke climbed out of Hawkin's truck, thanking him, as he ruffled through his pockets looking for something. Pulling out a white card, he exclaimed "Ah! Here it is! John had these cards made up, with our address and phone number." He handed it to Jesse through the window. 'John Hawkins, M.D.' the card title read. "Give me a ring some time, we'll have you over for dinner."

"I'd like that," Jesse said as the boys settled themselves in his truck and shut the door. "Thank you again, Jed."

With waves goodbye, both trucks set off, each turning back in the right direction. Luke cranked up the heat again in Jesse's cab as he and Bo explained the afternoon's events. As they turned onto more familiar Hazzard roads, Bo called Cooter on the CB and briefly explained what had happened, apologizing for the loss of the parts. Cooter wasn't really that mad, but glad that the boys were alright, though the parts were a hard loss. He promised to put an ear out on his contacts for the General or the parts.

When they reached home, it was nearly 9pm. Daisy wasn't home from work at the Boar's Nest, but she'd left dinner in the refrigerator. Jesse set about reheating the pot of beans and the few scraps of ham hiding in it, while Luke change clothes and Bo put in a call to Rosco to report the General stolen. Rosco, as usual, didn't believe a word Bo said, and refused to take any report.

"Listen, Rosco, I'm serious! It was these two women in an RV…"

Rosco chortled with delight. _"You had your car stolen by a couple of women? Serves you right, Bo Duke!"_

"But Rosco…"

_"No! You listen to me, Bo! I don't know what you Dukes are up to now, but I won't have any part in it, and I'm not listening to your lies a minute longer!"_

"But…!" A dead tone met Bo's ear - Rosco had hung up, probably laughing some more. Bo sighed and hung up the phone. Luke was just hobbling back into the kitchen on his sore leg, and Jesse was serving their dinner onto a couple of plates. Bo's stomach growled - neither of them had eaten since breakfast - and he was disappointed by the meager dinner. He said so as he sat down.

"Well, if you'd gone out hunting instead of heading to Chickasaw to play, you might be eating venison for dinner!" Jesse scolded, giving Bo a warning look as he started to pick up his fork.

Luke gave him a exasperated look, folding his hands before him. Bo should know better than to complain about food, for one, and he should know better than to irritate Uncle Jesse more, for two. When his cousin was ready, Luke said grace.

"Bless us Lord, in these gifts for which we are about to receive through thy bounty, through Christ our Lord. Amen."

"Amen," Bo echoed, glancing up at Jesse before reaching for his fork.

It was a quick meal, and Luke was sure Bo had set a personal record. As they washed their dishes, and the empty pot, Jesse sat at the table and asked about their plans for the next day.

"Well, we need to go hunting before we do anything else," Luke replied, very aware of their double failure that day. "Then I guess, if we can borrow your truck, Uncle Jesse, we'll go into town and try to talk some sense into Rosco, get him to put out an APB on the General and those two girls."

"Good luck," Bo grumbled.

"We have to try." Luke stifled a yawn. "In the mean time, I'm going to bed. I'm beat. Goodnight, Uncle Jesse, Bo." He left the cupboard open for Bo to replace his clean plate and limped back towards their bedroom. Jesse watched him go, regarding his limp with a frown. Closing the cupboard, Bo followed his gaze and guessed at his frown.

"He said it was just sore," Bo explained as Luke shut the bedroom door. "We walked some five miles before Jed picked us up."

Jesse nodded thoughtfully. "Well, I'm off to bed myself. Goodnight, Bo."

" 'Night, Uncle Jesse."

* * *


	3. Hunters and Hunted

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* * *

**

Chapter 3: Hunters and Hunted

The next morning, Bo was the first awake in the room he shared with Luke. Bright dawn sunlight was shining in through the window as he threw off his blankets, stretched, and scratched an itch. Luke was fast asleep, snoring louder than usual. Taking a change of clothes with him, Bo headed for the bathroom for a quick, hot shower. Daisy was still sleeping, after working late, but it sounded like Uncle Jesse was up and cooking eggs for breakfast. Bo toweled off and dressed quickly, still hungry and enticed by the smell of fried eggs. He ran a comb through his hair and went back to his room to deposit his pajama pants on the bed, shaking Luke's foot as he walked past.

"You gonna sleep all day, cousin?"

"Mmmm?"

"We've got hunting to do, remember?"

"Oh yeah," came Luke's sleepy reply. "ATCHOO!" he sneezed, followed by a pair of short coughs.

"You okay, Luke?"

"Yeah, I'm okay, I'll be out in a couple of minutes." Luke sat up, rubbing bleary, watery eyes.

Bo left his cousin to get dressed and headed into the kitchen, where Jesse served him some eggs. He folded his hands in silent prayer for a few moments before digging in. From down the hall, they heard Luke sneeze and cough a few more times as he got up, showered, and dressed. Bo had finished by the time he came into the kitchen, sniffing and looking like he'd hardly slept.

"Sounds like you've got a cold," Jesse observed, serving him a plate of eggs as he sat heavily in the chair.

"Feels like I've got a cold," Luke agreed, accepting a cup of hot coffee.

"How's the leg this morning?"

"A little sore. Better than last night," Luke said, folding his hands to pray silently as Bo had done.

"You gonna be alright to hunt?" Bo asked, concerned for his older cousin. Neither of them got sick that often.

Luke smiled, swallowing a mouthful of egg. "_I'll_ be fine, as long as _you_ don't scare the deer off."

Bo snorted indignantly. "_Me_? If I remember right, it was you that stepped on a stick and flushed that buck before I was ready."

"No, no, no…"

Jesse smiled, listening to his nephews argue. No need to worry about these two, he thought, they'd always take care of each other. He stood up, interrupting the exchange. "I'll be outside taking care of the chores. You boys be careful out there."

"We will, Uncle Jesse," the boys echoed one another, and went back to arguing the finer details of that last hunt.

-------------------------

Despite Luke's assertion, they hadn't been on the trails for long when Bo began to doubt whether his cousin should have come. When they'd crossed the fields to the forest far out back, bows in hand, Luke had seemed alright, albeit limping a bit. As they moved up into the wooded hills, though, Luke lagged further and further behind. He coughed at intervals, deeper and harder. Bo's attention was divided between watching his cousin and watching for signs of game, a hard task with one behind and the other somewhere ahead.

Near the crest of the second hill, as Bo paused again while Luke caught up. A sound caught his ear, and he nocked an arrow to his bow and drew, sighting on a clump of bushes. Luke half-heartedly jogged into view, with a burst of coughing stopping him in his tracks and startling a turkey out of the clump of bushes. Bo fired just as the bird took flight, the arrow striking in a flurry of feathers. It was dead before it hit the ground. The blond Duke walked over to his cousin first, though, to make sure he was alright. Luke's cough had subsided, and he was catching his breath.

"I think I ought…to go back," he said between breaths, before Bo could speak. He stood up straighter and cleared his throat. "How big's that turkey? I'll take it with me."

Bo looked his cousin up and down first, noting the sweat on his brow on the cool November morning. Then he turned a few paces to retrieve the bird. It was smallish for a turkey, only maybe ten-twelve pounds. Taking out his knife, Bo cut the bird's throat to let it bleed out onto the dirt.

"It's not huge, but it'll make a good dinner. You sure you don't want me to go back with you?"

Luke shook his head, pulling a trailing vine off a nearby tree to tie the bird's feet together. "No, I'll be alright. I'll take it slow," he promised. "We're gonna need more than this to feed the family until Uncle Jesse's check comes in." He looped his bow across his shoulder and chest and took the bird from Bo, quickly tying the feet and making a smart handle to carry it by. Then he looked up, ready to go.

"Take care, Luke. I'll be back this afternoon."

The boys set off in opposite directions, Luke for home, and Bo for more game.

---------------------------------

Back in town, Sheriff Rosco P. Coltrane was just coming in for duty an hour late. Deputy Enos Strate was already there, talking with a couple of gentlemen in black suits.

"Mornin', Sheriff. This here's a couple of fellas from the FBI, waitin' to speak to you," Enos explained brightly.

Rosco jumped, startled at the greeting, spilling hot coffee all over his hands. "Iji-oo-gi-Enos!" he stuttered, torn between the burns on his hands and the suits in front of him. "Escort these men into my office, before they…they…just get them in there!" he finished, searching his pockets for a handkerchief. Finding one, he went to wipe off the hand holding the coffee cup, only to drop the kerchief in the cup, and then drop the cup too. Stammering with indignation, he looked at Enos, who was coming back out of his office. "And clean that up, too!"

"Yes sir, Sheriff!" Enos replied. Rosco didn't hear him as he stalked into his office, wiping his hands on his uniform pants before he noticed they were his uniform pants. When he did notice, it was too late to make a fuss, because he was standing in front of three FBI agents.

"Now, ah, what can I do for you fellers?" Rosco asked, hoping the answer didn't involve himself being arrested. He sat down behind his desk, trying to look casual. Two of the agents stayed standing, while the third sat. The phone in the main office rang loudly.

"Sheriff Coltrane, we're on the trail of two young women, car thieves, believed to be moving through the state, hijacking…" The agent paused as the phone rang again, and again.

"Enos, would you get that!" Rosco shouted, sitting back with a smile to the agents. The ringing stopped.

"…Hijacking cars and selling them off at a profit as they go. We believe they passed through or near Hazzard County in the last few days, and we are hoping for your cooperation in locating any information on their whereabouts."

Rosco shook his head, trying to think of some angle that might get him a reward when he didn't have any information. "I'm sorry," he finally said reluctantly, "I can't think of any…"

"Sheriff!" Enos burst into the office, then looked apologetically at the FBI agents. "Sorry, fellas. Sheriff!" he repeated again.

"What, Enos? Can't you see I'm in an important meeting?"

"That was Mr. Langsford on the phone, down by Knockabout Creek? He says he found the General Lee in the creek this mornin' on his way into town, with bodies inside! He swam out to see if it was Bo an' Luke Duke, but instead he found these two women, shot dead!"

The seated agent stood up, very interested. "The General Lee?"

"Ah, that's the Duke boys' car," Rosco explained.

"I see. Deputy, did Mr. Langsford give a description of the women?"

"Oh, yes sir. He said one was blond, and the other had black hair, and they was young. I called Cooter to head over there and pull the General out of the creek."

"Why that sounds like our girls. Dead, eh? Do you know these Dukes?" he turned and asked Rosco.

"As a matter, as a matter of fact, I do!" Rosco chortled gleefully, then stifled the laughter. "Why just last night they called here trying to tell me their car was stolen! I knew they was just tryin' to cover somethin' up…trouble, those Dukes, nothing but trouble to a good honest law enforcement officer like myself."

"But Sheriff, Bo an' Luke wouldn't never kill nobody," Enos interrupted gently.

"Enos, you hush! You wouldn't know a felony from a traffic ticket!"

"I believe we'll accompany you down to the creek," the agent in charge said, standing up. "And then maybe we'll pay a visit to these Dukes. My name is Agent Brown, by the way, Derek Brown."

Rosco shook his hand, delighted to think how Boss Hogg was going to love this news. This would put the Duke boys away for life!

**Uh-oh. Looks like the hunt_ers_ are about to become the hunt_ed_.**

**--------------------------------------**

When Jesse saw Luke coming down through the fields, he looked for Bo behind him, and frowned when he realized Luke was alone. He carried his bow and what looked like a turkey, and was in no hurry. He was walking with a slow shuffle that was uncharacteristic of the boy, favoring his right leg. Leaving the bucket of chicken feed hanging on the fencepost, Jesse walked over to meet his eldest nephew.

"Somethin' wrong, Luke?" Jesse asked as he approached.

"No, Uncle Jesse. I'm just not feelin' very well, so Bo went on alone. We - he - got this turkey for dinner, at least." Luke looked pale and tired.

"Here, let me take that," Jesse reached for the bird Luke handed to him. "You go on inside and rest." Jesse's words were both permission and an order.

Luke nodded agreement and headed for the back door, leaving his boots and bow by the door. He coughed as he pulled off his sweaty shirt and dusty jeans in his bedroom, glad at least that his nose wasn't running like a sieve, though he ached all over. Then he crawled back under the blankets and soon fell asleep. Done feeding the chickens, Jesse came in a short while later to check on him. When he saw Luke was shivering in his sleep, Jesse pulled an extra blanket off Bo's bed and tucked it over his nephew. He also shut the window, which was letting in a cool breeze.

"Thanks, Uncle Jesse," Luke murmured. Jesse smiled and quietly shut the door behind him.

-----------------------------

It was early afternoon when Bo was working his way back towards the farm. The going was slow, and he cursed himself for his idiocy.

"Just had to take the shot, didn't you Bo?" he grumbled as he staggered along under the weight. "Beautiful shot, a five-point buck, had to! Never mind the rabbits and the pheasant already on the string. Stupid, Bo, stupid."

Now he was stuck carrying a 200-pound deer carcass, three rabbits, and two pheasants three miles back to the Duke farm, because Uncle Jesse couldn't abide waste, and Bo wasn't about to let some coyote get his kills. He'd gutted the deer on the spot, eliminating the weight of the internal organs, but that didn't make him feel much better as he bent his back and shouldered the load. It _had_ been a beautiful shot - he'd been hidden in the brush, aiming for another rabbit, when the buck majestically strolled directly into his sights. It was as clean a kill as he'd ever made, and it wasn't until afterwards that he realized just how far he was from the farm. It didn't improve his mood to realize the bloodstains that would get all over his clothes, which Daisy would likely switch him for.

He came the long way around - or, at least, it was the short way from where he'd been, but the long way from the way he'd come, if that makes sense to any of you non-country folk. He ended up on the game trail going through the woods west of the farm, and kept to it, figuring it would be easier going that stumbling through the loose soil of the fields. When he had passed the farmed fields and came up even with the farmhouse, he adjusted his kills on his shoulder for the bushwhack through the underbrush to the open field of the farm.

"Bo!"

Bo jumped and dropped the deer with a heavy **thud!**, looking around. He could have sworn…

"Luke?"

"Get down!" A hand grabbed the back of his collar and pulled him down into the underbrush.

"What's goin' on, Luke?..!" Bo looked at his cousin, who was pointing to the farm. Both lay on their bellies among the shrubs.

"I'm not exactly sure, but it's not good. I woke up when someone knocked on the front door. Uncle Jesse answered it, and whoever it was, was asking for us. Something must be off, 'cause Jesse said neither of us was here. I slipped out the back door and hid. Those guys went inside - I think they wanted to search the house for us - those must be their cars out front."

Bo searched the scene, spotting the two grey sedans sitting out front and the open kitchen door. He heard Uncle Jesse's voice rise inside, in an angry tone he knew too well. The screen door flew open and two men in suits were shoved out backwards, trying to hold onto Jesse Duke as he fought back.

"This ain't legal! I know my rights!" he shouted in response to something said much quieter by the suits as they manhandled him out the door. "Entrapment, that's what this is!"

"Uncle Jesse!" Bo whispered, and before Luke could stop him, he was up and gone, bolting for the scene on the front porch.

"Bo! Dang it!" Luke stood, still hidden by the trees, but he didn't follow. He couldn't run on his leg, and he'd be more of a hindrance than a help. A rumbling engine caught his ear, and he turned to see another vehicle coming up the drive, this one driven by two men wearing Stetson hats and carrying a trio of bloodhounds in the back. Hell, leg or not, Bo and Uncle Jesse needed his help.

Bo charged for the struggle on the porch, barreling into the two suits who were manhandling his uncle. "Run, Uncle Jesse!" All three crashed to the ground in a heap. A third suit emerged from the house, bringing a gun to bear, but Jesse whacked his outstretched arms and knocked the gun away. He reached down and pulled Bo to his feet, looking up to see the arrival of the pickup.

"Bo! Uncle Jesse! This way!" Luke shouted, and his family members swiftly obeyed. Bo ran half a step behind his uncle to ensure his escape. The dogs barked excitedly as they leapt down from the truck bed and the cowboys released the three from the long leashes that held them. Bo crashed through the underbrush to the deer trail and took both bows from Luke, who held the string of small game. The deer carcass was left unnoticed.

"Go! Go!" Luke urged. Jesse was already running ahead, knowing he was probably the slowest of the three.

"You first," Bo said, and Luke didn't take the time to argue with him. They both ran. Bo kept a close watch over his shoulder for the dogs. It didn't occur to him to wonder just yet what on earth was going on - they were running, someone else was pursuing, and that was enough for now.

From the sound of the hound's belling calls, they were hot on the trail following the deer-path. Luke and Jesse were just ahead, feet pounding, and Luke didn't stop to think of how he was managing a full-out run on his leg. Necessity being the mother of a great many things, he ran on just the same. After a few minutes, though, a coughing fit choked him and he had to stop for air. Jesse pulled up as his nephew did, and Bo came up behind them.

"We can't outrun dogs! Uncle Jesse, what is this?" Bo asked, chest heaving.

"That's the FBI," Jesse said quickly, "and they want you boys for murder!"

"MURDER?" Bo exclaimed.

"We've got to split up," Luke gasped, hands on his knees.

"No!" Bo and Jesse said at the same time.

"They'll catch us if we stay together, and we don't have time! Bo, you can get away, go for help!"

Bo thought for half a second, the belling hounds coming closer. "Alright, we'll split up then." Jesse looked at him, incredulous. The Dukes stuck together! "Uncle Jesse, you and Luke head straight for the creek. They'll lose your scent there. I'll lead them off north into the hills." He took the string of small game from Luke, and handed him his bow. "Meet me at…at…" Bo tried to think of a place they could regroup and take shelter for the night, where no one would think of looking. "…At Bentley's Caves," he said finally.

Luke looked at him for a moment and understood his plan. Several hundred yards down the trail, the lead dog called out as it sighted the trio.

"Go!" Bo shouted, with a shove in the right direction.

Luke pulled his uncle, urging him on, and they broke into a run, disappearing into the forest. Bo stood openly on the trail, watching the dogs coming closer and his family leave out of the corner of his eye. When he judged one close enough and the other far enough away, he took off like a jackrabbit up the trail. Sure enough, with their prey in sight, the hounds left off trailing by scent and gave chase, ignoring the two escaping figures headed into the forest.

**Now, you'd be surprised just how fast a country boy can run when he sees a set of teeth that close to his behind. Still, I'm thinkin' ol' Bo had better have a few tricks up his sleeve, if he's gonna outfox those hounds. Y'all stick around, now.**

* * *


	4. Losing Hand in a Stacked Deck

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Chapter 4: Losing Hand in a Stacked Deck

_Think, Bo, think!_ The blond Duke's feet pounded in swift rhythm. He followed the deer path up into the hills where the underbrush opened up, then followed the easiest route along the gullies between the steep slopes. He just managed to keep a dozen yards ahead of the lead bloodhound, with two more behind it and the cowboy handlers trying to catch up. _What would Luke do?_

"Luke would come up with a plan to save your hide," he muttered aloud to himself. The string of game dangling from his hands slapped his leg again. He glanced down at it, then over his shoulder. As the gully sloped gently upwards, the dogs were gaining on him. _Now's as good a time as any._ With one hand, he pulled his knife from its case on his belt and cut the game line in half, flinging the trio of rabbits straight at the lead dog. Without stopping to watch, he darted into a thick growth of bushes on the hillside with a hope and a prayer.

The line tripped the bloodhound's long legs and set him crashing to the ground, and the two running behind him barreled straight into the tangle. Their prey gone from sight, the leader snarled and bit at the bloody rabbits, the scent attracting his ire. The distraction proved enough for Bo to scramble up the hill from one clump of bushes to the next, up and over the crest before the handlers caught up to the dogs and straightened them out. Bo didn't wait to watch them cast around to pick up his scent again - he ran as fast as his legs would carry him.

The extra distance, though, gave him the chance to try a few more tricks. He knew how tracking dogs worked - he'd hunted with deerhounds, coonhounds, bird dogs, and every other kind of working dog Hazzard County had to offer. If he stayed out of sight, they had to work by scent, which would slow them down and let him put more space between them. Then if, if he was clever enough, he could confuse the trail enough to lose them entirely.

Bo zig-zagged as much as he dared, racing down the far slope of the first hill and up the second. Each turn would slow them more. He heard the belling call that announced them back on the trail as he reached the crest of the second hill. Heart pounding, he surveyed the hill, trying to decide the best route. Decision made, he ran along the length of the hilltop for a short distance, then turned again as he headed down the slope. If he could make it to cover, the wind alone on the hilltop could foil the hounds. A spread of woods on the north end of the next slope gave him hope, and he ran straight for it. The slow intervals between the hounds' calls made him sure they were well behind him as he reached the treeline. Gasping for breath, he slowed to a jog, only to hear the dogs close again. _Dang it! _His scent must have clung to the moisture in the earth from the last week's rain - perfect tracking conditions, neither too dry nor too wet.

Bo picked up his pace again, but ran in circles and long curving loops through the trees to the far side. Breaking back out of the woods, he found a short field leading down to the creek that bordered the Duke lands. He made straight for the creek, splashing knee-deep across to the other side, up along the far bank, then back in, and so on, making his way upstream. The hounds' calls were distant again, and falling behind. Bo grinned and laughed to himself, imagining the handlers' anger and frustration. He slowed down some, pacing himself, but continued his tangled route, generally making his way east towards the designated meeting place.

-----------------------

It was late afternoon when Bo arrived at the edge of a cow pasture belonging to Thomas Sutton. He hadn't lost the hunters entirely yet - he still hear the distant belling behind him. He decided to cut through the pasture, the heavy manure smell sure to throw off the scent. Of course, he didn't know that this particular pasture belonged to Thomas Sutton, until he heard the clip-clop of hooves coming from his left, followed by the cocking of a shotgun barrel, and a gruff voice.

"Who's that up there?..! Show yourself!"

Bo stepped out from behind a cud-chewing cow, where he'd hidden, hands raised in surrender.

"Bo Duke!" Sutton lowered his shotgun from the back of his horse. "What are you doing out here, boy?"

The bloodhounds called again in the distance, as good as an answer.

"Who's after you?"

"The FBI, I think." Bo looked in the direction of the dogs, breathing hard.

"The FBI!"

"They've been after me all afternoon. Uncle Jesse says they want me and Luke for murder, but we don't even know who we're supposed to have killed!"

Sutton listened intently as Bo explained the events at the farmhouse earlier in the day, digesting the information.

"And you boys didn't do anything?"

"No, sir!"

"Where's Luke and Jesse?"

"They're…" Bo stopped, that 'what-would-Luke-do' alarm sounding in the back of his head. "I'd rather not say, sir. We'll have to hide until we can find out what's going on."

Sutton nodded understanding, also looking in the direction of the hunters' calls. "Well, you'd better go on, boy. If you and your family need anything, food, shelter, you'll find it at the Sutton home."

Bo looked back at him, wide-eyed with surprise, and nodded. "Thank you, Mr. Sutton!" It had been two and a half years since the incident in the mines, where Bo and Luke went after Sutton's lost sons and Bo was trapped when the caves collapsed. Sutton hadn't forgotten his gratitude, nor his debt.

The dogs belled closer. Bo looked towards the sound, and with a nod to the farmer, took off again, weaving through the bovine herd. Several of the cows lowed and milled about at the disturbance, their hooves churned the mud and muck and obscured Bo's footprints. Sutton urged his horse through the herd, resuming his patrol, though he stayed nearby to watch for the passage of the hunters.

Not ten minutes later, the bloodhounds burst through the underbrush and leaped over the fence, followed closely by their handlers, urging them on. The blast of a shotgun resounded through the air as the men ran onto the pasture, stopping them in their tracks. The dogs were searching the ground, trying to sort out the different smells that met their sensitive noses. Sutton brought his horse up at a trot, roaring angrily.

"What's the meaning of this?..! Get off my land! This is private property, not a game ranch!"

"Easy, mister," one of the cowboy handlers said, eyeing the shotgun leveled at he and his partner. "We're with the FBI, hunting a fugitive from the law. A murderer. He's one of the locals, maybe you've seen him? Blond, tall, last name's Duke."

"I don't care if you're with the army fighting the second rise of the South, I want you back over that fence and off my land before I shoot the both of you! And if I see the Duke boy, I'll shoot him too! Now git!"

Unwilling to argue with the wrong end of the shotgun, the handler called to the dogs and his partner snapped leashes on all three. Slowly they backed away and climbed back over the fence, the dogs jumping it in one bound. Sutton shouldered his firearm and watched them move with cold eyes, his horse snorting impatiently.

"You'll call the Sheriff's department if you see any of the Dukes, I hope, mister," the handler said when he was a safer distance away. Sutton's deeper scowl made him back away a step, and the pair turned and melted back into the woods with the dogs. Sutton smiled slightly to himself, hearing them cursing as they fought their way through the underbrush to circle the pasture. By the time they found Bo's trail again, he'd be long gone.

Bo had one final trick up his sleeve, that he'd just been waiting for the right place to pull. Not three miles from the caves where he was to meet his uncle and cousin, he found just the right spot. It was sunset, though the long red rays of the waning sunlight had difficulty breaking through the black clouds that had gathered in the last few hours. Bo stood in the dim light at another treeline. He looked at the trees in the broad strip of woods - perfect. The trees grew far enough apart to have thick, broad limbs reaching out to the sunlight and rain, but close enough together for what he had in mind. These dogs might be excellent trackers, but he was willing to bet - indeed, he was betting - that they were no coonhounds, and a coon's trick would fool them.

He had to jump to reach the first branch of the oak tree, and straining, he pulled himself up. The bow was hung across his chest and shoulder, and the pair of pheasants was strung at his belt. He sat leaning again the trunk of the tree for a moment, resting and making sure the tree held his scent. Then he was back up, climbing to another branch, and another, stopping occasionally to untangled the bow as it caught on the higher branches. When he was high above the ground and hidden by the foliage, he looked across to the next tree, sizing up the closest branches for strength. He hesitated, glancing down at the long distance to the ground, until the distant belling hounds steeled his resolve.

Gathering himself, Bo made a mighty leap for the next tree, reaching for a sturdy branch to catch him. The first branch slipped through his hands with the force of his momentum, but the second held, halting his fall and swinging him roughly into the tree trunk. Scrabbling with his feet, he found a foothold and steadied himself, heart pounding with excitement and relief. He'd made it! But Bo didn't stop there. He climbed upwards again in the second tree, edged out on a branch, and jumped again for a third tree, then a fourth after that, continuing until he ran out of trees with branches strong enough to catch his weight. Climbing back down, Bo found himself on the far end of the broad wooded strip, easily half a mile from where he'd started. He grinned again. _Ha! Let them try to follow _that_ trail!_ It was enough to fool all but the smartest of coonhounds, and he doubted these tracking dogs were up to snuff. He took off at a jog in a straight line out of the woods, leaving as little trace as possible for the dogs to pick up, and headed for the caves.

**Well what do you know? Bo is a regular ol' fox after all! Or should I say, 'coon?**

**------------------------**

The first drops of another storm were falling as Bo reached the mines. It was pitch black and rather late, and he'd had a hard time finding his way. He'd lost the dogs at the woods, he was sure - he hadn't heard their calls for some time now, even faintly, and he was sure the sunset and the rain would end their search. The cave entrance was a deeper black in the side of the ridge, and he hesitated, wide-eyed, watching for a sign of his cousin or uncle. A stone clattered somewhere inside.

"Luke?" he called quietly, leaning one hand on the stone at the entrance. The black cave brought back too many unwelcome memories, and he was in no hurry to enter it alone. It was, however, probably the best place to hide, because it was the last place anyone in Hazzard would expect Bo to return to.

"Bo, is that you?" Uncle Jesse's gruff voice called from the darkness.

"Uncle Jesse!" Bo called back, taking a few tentative steps forward. He jumped when a hand found his arm as he groped along the wall.

"It's me, Bo." In the blackness, he couldn't even see his uncle in front of him. "Come on in, we've got a fire going."

If there was a fire, Bo couldn't see where, but he trusted his uncle, and followed him in. After rounding three bends in the tunnel, Bo was relieved to see the blackness cut by a bright flickering light reflecting off the wall. One last bend revealed a blazing campfire, a pile of firewood, and Luke sitting against the tunnel wall close to the fire, seemingly sleeping. Both legs were stretched out before him He opened his eyes at Jesse and Bo's approach, coughing hard before greeting his cousin.

"We were worried about you," he said simply, as Bo eased down to sit next to him. Jesse took the pair of pheasant from Bo and went to work plucking and cleaning the birds to cook for a late dinner.

"How long have you been here?"

"Two, three hours," Jesse answered, spitting the birds on a pair of sticks to roast. He and Luke had taken the very long way around, and they'd gone slow as Luke had trouble both with his sore leg and his worsening cough. Still, thier route had been much shorter than Bo's meandering race to lose thepersistent hounds.

"How did you do?" Luke asked in a raspy voice.

Bo explained the highlights of the chase as Luke and Jesse listened closely. Luke was both surprised and proud of Bo's ingenuity, though Jesse disapproved.

"That was dangerous, Bo, you could have been hurt!" he scolded, referring to the tree-jumping.

"I think he did great," Luke defended his cousin, clapping him on the shoulder. Bo grinned at the compliment, but he frowned as Luke started coughing again. He waved Bo off when he started to voice concern, so Bo switched to another question instead.

"What are we going to do, Uncle Jesse? Why does the FBI think Luke and I killed someone?"

"Well, that's what we need to find out," Jesse answered, thoughtfully. "The way those FBI agents acted today, they had no doubt it was you two they were after. They barged right in and started searching the house with their guns drawn, like you was already found guilty and sentenced! It's a good thing Daisy was already off to work. It's a good thing you got out when you did too, Luke," he added with a nod to his nephew. "When they didn't find either of you, they took hold of me and tried dragging me off, so they could wait there for you boys to come home! And those dogs! I don't know just what's going on, but we need to get to the bottom of this, and quick, _without_ you two ending up in their hands."

"What about Daisy?" Bo asked.

"She's working a double shift tonight, so she won't be home yet," Luke reasoned. "Do you think they'd try to arrest her too?" he asked, looking up at Jesse with worried blue eyes.

Jesse frowned deeply. He had no answer. All three sat in silence for several moments, the only sound the pop of the burning firewood and the sizzle of the roasting pheasant. Bo stood up suddenly, circling the fire and walking past his uncle and cousin towards the exit.

"Bo!" Luke called after him. He started to rise, but cringed as he put weight on his leg, and sat back down. Jesse got up and went after him instead.

Bo stood just inside the cave entrance, staring out into the black pouring rain. There was no going out in this, too wet, too dark to see, not all the long miles to the Duke farm or to the Boar's Nest to warn his cousin. Jesse came up behind him, just able to make out his outline against the falling raindrops.

"Come on, Bo," he squeezed his nephew's shoulder. "Come get something to eat. We'll have to wait until morning."

Reluctantly, Bo turned and followed his uncle back. This weekend just kept getting worse, with no end in sight.

**Y'know, somehow this is reminding me of a game of poker, where the Dukes can't see the other players or the cards, but they're still forced to place a bet. Let's just hope there's an ace in that hand.**

**------------------------------**

All three Dukes slept poorly on the cold stone ground, from worry, from hungry stomachs, and from illness. Luke's coughing woke Bo and Jesse constantly, but there was little they could do for him but stoke the fire and try to keep him warm. Bo even went out once and gathered rainwater in a folded cup of birch bark, to cool his cousin's throat. The two pheasants hadn't gone very far for two young men who'd missed two meals, and all three who'd put many miles under their boots in a short time. Shortly before dawn Luke finally fell into an exhausted sleep, but Jesse and Bo were wide awake.

The pouring rain had eased off in the night. Bo sat at the cave entrance again, watching the first dawn light break above the horizon as water dripped from the trees and bushes all around. Jesse joined him, sitting down against the opposite wall.

"He's running a fever," Jesse informed his nephew quietly.

Bo nodded, unsurprised. He was trying to sort out his thoughts and decide what to do first. There was no question in his mind that Luke needed to stay here, and Uncle Jesse with him. They needed food, water, and supplies - blankets especially. They needed to find Daisy and get her to safety. They needed information - who had been killed, what evidence there was against them, what the FBI was doing to find them. The loss of the General Lee was only a dim ache in the back of his mind. He took a deep breath and looked to his uncle.

"I think I ought to head back to the farm first, and see if Daisy made it home. I can pick up some supplies there, and talk to the neighbors and see if they have any news."

Jesse nodded reluctant approval. He'd already made the same conclusion about Luke, and though he didn't want Bo out there alone, there was nothing for it. "Be careful, Bo. They'll be watching the farm."

Bo stood and went back into the mine to check on his cousin before he left. Luke was still sleeping, muttering restlessly. His plaid shirt was soaked, chest and underarms, with sweat. Bo watched him for a few moments in the flickering firelight, then gathered his bow and remaining arrows, turned around, and made his way back out again.

"Uncle Jesse, if I'm not back by sunset…"

"We'll figure something out. Take care of yourself."

"I will." He took off at a ground-eating lope, making for the straightest route he could figure to get to the farm.

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Despite his early start, it took Bo the better part of the morning to reach the farm on Mill Pond Road. The loss the General wasn't just an ache in his heart anymore, but also an ache in his feet. He approached cautiously, from the south, circling to see a sign of FBI agents, the bloodhounds, or their handlers. He frowned when he saw nothing, and spent another half-hour slipping through the woods and underbrush, watching and waiting. Finally he decided that the only place they could be hiding was inside the farmhouse itself. If they were gonna ambush him there, then so be it, let them try.

Bow in hand, he crept as close as he could before breaking cover and running to the huge oak tree out front. Uncle Jesse's white pickup truck was gone, and Dixie was nowhere in sight - so much for driving back to the caves. He peered around the tree trunk, looking for a sign of movement inside. The front door was closed. Nothing. Taking a deep breath, he left the tree and darted up onto the porch, quietly opening the screen door and cringing as the kitchen door squeaked. He stepped into the kitchen, gently closing both doors behind him. Not a soul breathed inside, but Bo gawked at what he saw.

The house was a wreck, completely torn apart. Dishes lay broken on the floor, furniture knocked over, papers scattered haphazardly. Bo walked through from room to room, checking every corner, at every moment expecting to hear the click of a cocked handgun or the belling call of a bloodhound. Nothing. Every room was empty, and every room was torn apart. No sign of Daisy - if she'd even been home. With a frustrated sigh, Bo went into the room he shared with Luke and found his cousin's old green military duffel bag. Then he worked his way through the house, gathering supplies as he went. From the bedrooms, he tightly rolled and tied several blankets, and added warm coats for all three of them, plus a handful of clean handkerchiefs. In the kitchen he gathered what food he could find unspoiled - a jar of preserves, a loaf of bread Daisy had baked on Friday, a dozen-odd apples, a hunk of cheese wrapped in cloth. He found a jar of Uncle Jesse's finest moonshine hidden in a corner cupboard and added it to the pile, knowing Uncle Jesse sometimes used it as medicine. He also took a small pot, some silverware, and a pair of canteens.

Once all this was secure in the duffel bag, Bo went back to his room and changed his clothes to a clean set that was slightly less bloodstained and reeking of sweat and mud. When he changed his socks, he saw the torn blisters on his feet, and decided to add a few extra clean pairs of socks to his load. Heading out the back door with the duffel bag strapped across his back and his bow in hand, he went into the barn to collect a supply of arrows, dynamite, and blast caps. As he walked, Bo noticed fresh chicken feed on the ground, and in the barn he saw that the goat had been milked and fed. He smiled. _Someone_ had been there, at least. Now fully supplied, Bo settled the pack comfortably on his shoulders and set off eastward towards the neighbor's farm.

--------------------

While Bo was circling the farmhouse, wondering where the FBI was hiding, the FBI was at the Hazzard Sheriff's Department, wondering the same about the Dukes. Agent Derek Brown sat across from J.D. Hogg at his desk in the back office, drilling the county commissioner et al. for more information.

"Who are their friends?" Brown was saying. "Who would give them shelter?"

Boss laughed. "Who are their friends? If Jesse Duke said 'Jump!', three-quarters of Hazzard County would ask how high! You might as well do a house-to-house search."

Brown frowned. "You're not being very cooperative, Mr. Hogg. These are murderers we're after, I'd think you would be more concerned."

Boss ignored the comment and looked at Brown with a sudden curiosity, a glint of greed in his eye. "You know, I don't believe I ever saw your badge, Mr. Brown. You are from the FBI, correct?"

Brown's eyes widened for a fraction of a second, before his frown deepened. "That's right," he confirmed.

Boss smiled conspiratorially. "And does the, ah, 'FBI' offer rewards for cooperation in the capture of such ah, dangerous criminals?"

Brown leaned forward with his own thin smile, catching on to Boss's game. "Why, I'm sure something of the sort could be arranged. What kind of reward did you have in mind?"

Boss leaned back, considering. How far could he push this ruthless crew, who certainly weren't federal agents? "For the full cooperation and use of the resources of the Hazzard County Sheriff's Department, I can imagine a reward of oh, $50,000?"

Brown squinted at him. "$10,000," he counter-offered.

"$40,000."

"$25,000, and not a penny more."

"Done!" Boss exclaimed, standing to shake the man's hand. He could hardly remember being more excited - $25,000, plus the Dukes out of his hair! "Rosco! Enos!" he shouted for his officers.

A moment later Sheriff Rosco P. Coltrane burst into the office, followed by Deputy Enos Strate, who collided with him from behind. "Enos, would you get off me!" Rosco yelled before turning to Boss Hogg. "You called, Boss?"

"Rosco, I want you and Deputy Strate to help these FBI agents in every manner possible to find the rest of those Dukes and arrest them all! I want you to give them every file you've got on the Duke boys, and follow every lead!" Boss ordered loftily.

"B-but Boss, I don't think it's legal to…" Enos began to protest.

"Enos! Did I tell you to think? I want them murderin' Dukes caught and off the streets by any means, so the good people of Hazzard can sleep safely again!" Boss cried dramatically.

Enos couldn't argue with that, though he still didn't think the Dukes were guilty of anything. He backed out of the office and went to find the requested files, while Rosco talked strategy with Boss and Brown.

Brown already had Cooter Davenport under surveillance, after Rosco said he was the first one the Dukes would go to for help. After the foiled raid the previous afternoon, the dogs had been out all afternoon trying to catch Bo Duke, with no success. Brown's men had then gone door to door amongst the neighbors on Mill Pond Road with the story of the murders, looking for information and warning against the dangerous criminals. Every neighbor had readily agreed to call if the Dukes showed up at their door, but not one of them actually intended to do so. Brown's men had given up for the night when the rain started pouring down, eliminating any chance of picking up Bo Duke's trail and dousing thoughts of scouring the roads for any sign of the fugitives. Their last act of the night, after confiscating Jesse Duke's truck and searching the farmhouse, had been to arrest Daisy Duke at the Boar's Nest - at the end of her shift, of course.

Daisy hadn't come quietly, of course, once she heard the charges. She didn't believe a word of it, and fought like a wildcat, leaving one of Brown's men with a ferocious black eye and another hoping he could still father children. In the end she'd been handcuffed and carried to Rosco's waiting patrol car. Now she sat in the jail cells beneath the Sheriff's Department, cooling her heels impatiently, angry and worried about her family. She'd questioned Enos when he brought her breakfast, but he only knew slightly more than she did. He told her about the discovery of the General Lee, and the dead women inside, and the coincidental arrival of the FBI agents pursuing the women just as Mr. Langsford's report was called in. It didn't add up to Daisy, but Enos had nothing more to offer but his sympathy. Then he'd left at Boss's call, and Daisy was left alone again.

**Poor Daisy - ain't nothin worse than being in the dark all alone, figuratively speaking. But we did just see Mr. Brown tip his hand to Boss, an' I've gone a feelin' that when all the cards are shown, the Dukes are gonna end up with the losing hand, the way this deck is stacked.**

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	5. Good Neighbors Don't Require Good Fences

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Chapter 5: Good Neighbors Don't Require Good Fences

**Now,here comes Bo, heading for the Keller Farm. Boy, I sure hope he gets a kind welcome, don't you? He sure could use a friendly face right now.**

Bo approached the Keller farmhouse as cautiously as his own, wary and edgy of pursuit - being chased halfway across the county by bloodhounds will do that to a boy. The whole way over, he'd debated over the best way to approach the Kellers - to hide in the barn, look for Mr. Keller in the fields, to sneak in through the back door - but he finally decided that it was probably best just to walk up and knock on the front door. So he did.

Marlene Keller was in the kitchen, preparing lunch for her husband and son. They'd been back from church for a while, and the menfolk were out in the barn grooming the horses. When she went to answer the knock at the door and saw young Bo Duke standing there, heavy pack across his shoulders and a smudge of dirt across his cheek, she forgot about lunch entirely and ushered the boy in immediately, all aflutter.

"Oh Bo! We heard all about what happened, what they're accusing you of! I'm so glad you're alright! How's Jesse, and Luke, and Daisy?.! Come in, come in, and sit down! Take that pack off, you look fit to fall over! Jonas!" she called out the back door towards the barn. "Would you come here, dear!"

Bo was speechless, and couldn't have gotten a word in edgewise anyway. Before he knew it, a plate of cold chicken and biscuits was set in front of him with a tall glass of milk and a bowl of apples, and Mrs. Keller was cutting him a slice of cherry pie from a pan newly cooled on the windowsill. He started to answer her questions about the rest of the family, only to be shushed and ordered to eat up, because he looked like a half-starved scarecrow. Of course, Mrs. Keller usually thought he looked like a half-starved scarecrow, but he wasn't going to complain. Obediently, Bo folded his hands and bowed his head to say a silent prayer over the unexpected meal, staying that way a bit longer than usual to add in prayers for his family.

As Bo dug in, Jonas Keller came in the back door with his teenaged son Elijah.

"Bo! Good to see you well, son. We don't believe a word of what they said, of course," Jonas reassured him, patting him on the back as he fetched his own lunch. "I sent Elijah over this morning to take care of the animals, figured you wouldn't be back yet."

Bo nodded thanks and swallowed. "I saw that, thank you," he acknowledged the teenager who'd done the work as well. "Uncle Jesse will sure appreciate it."

"Now Jonas, you let him eat!" Marlene interrupted him, scolding her husband. "God knows where they had to spend the night! Can you imagine, arresting Jesse Duke and his boys for murder? Awful, just awful!" she tutted, sitting down at the table with the three of them.

When Bo had finished seconds, but politely refused thirds, Mrs. Keller cleared the dirty dishes from the table and sat back down across from her husband. Taking the cue, thirteen year-old Elijah excused himself and went back outside, though not so far that he couldn't hear their conversation.

"What do you intend to do now, son?" Jonas asked with kind concern.

Bo looked down at the table, fiddling with the half-empty glass of milk. He wasn't used to be turned to for answers, for plans, and but he knew that this time, the buck stopped with him.

"Well…we're hiding out, right now, me and Uncle Jesse and Luke, until we can sort this out. I came back for some supplies from the farm, and I came over here to see if you and Mrs. Keller had heard anything more than we know. Have you seen Daisy?" he asked suddenly, the one concern of many coming to the forefront of his thoughts.

Marlene shook her heard. "No, dear, we thought she was with you and Jesse. Jonas kept a lookout - she didn't come home last night, though those FBI agents were at your farm quite late."

Bo's heart sank, and it must have shown, because Marlene squeezed his arm comfortingly. "I'm sure she's just fine, Bo. That girl's got more sense and spirit than any other young woman in the county."

Back to business, Jonas asked what Bo knew so the case so far.

"Practically nothing. I was out hunting when I came back and found Luke hiding in the trees, the FBI in the house. They tried taking Uncle Jesse, but we stopped them, and we all got away. Uncle Jesse said they were looking for me an' Luke on murder charges. We don't even know who died!" Bo hung his head, running his hands through his hair. This was such a mess.

Jonas frowned, shaking his head. "I'm sorry, son, but we can't add much more to it. They came around here later last night, after we heard all the commotion with the dogs, and warned us that the Duke family was all fugitives from the law and wanted for murder, and that we should call the Sheriff's Department at once if we spot you. I asked them, whose murder? An' they says they can't release that information just yet. Those city boys had real bad attitudes, I'll tell you right now. I've known Rosco to be more polite."

"Have you talked to anyone else, dear?" Marlene asked, watching him with a motherly eye. It wasn't that long ago that he'd been her son's age, stirring up trouble like a Texas tornado, as boys were wont to do.

Bo shook his head. "No, I came straight to the farm this morning, and I wanted to get out of there as quick as I could, in case they came back." An idea struck him. "I ought to call Cooter, he's usually got a good ear on things in town."

"Well by all means, please, use our phone," Jonas invited, gesturing to the device on the wall.

Bo needed no second invitation. He picked up the receiver and dialed the phone in Cooter's garage, sure he'd be there even on a Sunday.

_"Cooter Davenport,"_ came the familiar answer.

"Cooter! It's Bo! I don't know where to start, but…"

_"Oh, howdy, Mr. Jackson!...Why sure!...A hole in the radiator, you say?"_ came Cooter's friendly response.

Bo was confused, and struck silent for a moment.

_"Weelll, I've got a couple things to tidy up here, but I can be out there in, oh, an hour?...All right, Mr. Jackson, I'll see you then. Bye now."_

With a click, Cooter hung up the phone. Bo stared at the receiver before hanging it back up. Jonas Keller looked at him expectantly as he sat back down at the table.

"I don't know if it's me or him that's lost it, but that was the strangest conversation I never had!" Bo declared, staring at the table.

"What did he say?"

Bo related Cooter's exact words to the Kellers, still trying to make sense of them. Marlene exchanged looks with her husband before speaking.

"Well, that is strange, especially since the Jacksons moved south toward Savannah three years ago. Maybe it was some kind of code."

" 'A hole in the radiator'," Jonas repeated to himself. "Hole…hole…hollow. Would he be talking about Jackson's Hollow?"

Bo looked up, the words clicking into place. "Of course! Someone must have been listening in on him! I hope they couldn't tell where the call came from," he said, suddenly worried he'd placed the Kellers in trouble.

"Oh, no dear, don't worry about us," Marlene rightly reckoned his concern.

"Jackson's Hollow, in an hour," Jonas repeated again. "But that's eight miles from here, as the crow flies. You won't make it in time, not with that pack," he observed. He frowned, brow furrowed in thought, and then lightened in sudden decision. "Elijah!" he called to his son.

The boy quickly came in through the back door, where he'd been listening on the porch. "Yes, Papa?"

"Go saddle Black Morgan, and gather a couple days' feed for him in a sack, on the double."

"Yes sir!" the boy was off and running to the barn.

Bo looked wide-eyed at his neighbor, trying to find his voice to object. "Mr. Keller, I appreciate it, really, but I can't take your horse!" he finally managed, starting to his feet. Hospitality was one thing, but lending him such a valuable animal was aiding and abetting a suspected felon.

"Sit down, son," Jonas directed him, in a tone so close to Uncle Jesse's that Bo automatically obeyed. "You'll take good care of him, and you'll bring him back safe, I'm sure. You can't go traipsing across the countryside trying to outrun dogs and police cars and God knows what else, and I'll bet your feet are fair sore just from that run yesterday. I just wish we could do more to help you clear your name. Now, thank me and relax a bit longer until you're back to being on the run again."

"Thank you Mr. Keller, Mrs. Keller," Bo said in a quiet voice. He hadn't realized the tension that had drained from him since he'd stepped through the front door, until Jonas mentioned going back out there. "I can't say how grateful I am."

"It's alright, Bo," Marlene patted his arm again, standing up from the table. "You just give Jesse and Luke our regards, and come back safe."

"Luke!" Bo felt a wash of guilt all over again. He'd been sitting here, relaxing, having a fine meal - seconds even! - while his cousin was miserable and sick and waiting for the blankets and food he'd gathered.

"What is it, Bo?" Mrs. Keller asked. She tutted again sympathetically when he explained the family's situation more fully, laying a hand on his shoulder as he finished. "Oh honey, don't you feel bad for a moment. Luke and Jesse know that you're worried about them, that's why you're out here right now, instead of turning tail and leaving them on their own! You can't begrudge yourself a meal if you're going to take care of them as well."

Bo gave her a small smile, but didn't have a chance to respond as Elijah came running back into the house. "All done, Pop!" he called.

At his words, Bo stood, unwilling to sit idle any longer. Jonas stood with him and stepped around the table to show him out the back. Bo shouldered his pack and turned to thank Mrs. Keller again, but she shooed him along, saying she'd be out in a moment anyway.

Black Morgan waited impatiently, tied to the far end of the barn. Bo, who had learned to ride at age seven on Morgan's grandsire Georgia Twister, knew he was a spirited animal, and gelding hadn't calmed the horse much. The latter part of the horse's name came from his lineage - he was a Morgan horse, a sturdy versatile breed that Jonas Keller was proud to own a part of. He was equally capable of plowing a field as running a race, with endurance, strength, and intelligence to spare. The former part of the horse's name came from his temperament, which was indeed black, and very unusual in the Morgan line. If Bo didn't already have some experience with the beast, Jonas never would have handed him the reins.

As it was, it took a few minutes' reaccquaintance before Black Morgan settled enough for Bo to secure the pack behind the saddle, along with the horse's own supply of hay and oats. He adjusted the stirrups to fit his long legs, and swung up into the saddle while Jonas held the reins for him, watching Morgan's ears flick backwards and forwards with uncertain feeling. Then, with an indifferent snort, the gelding relaxed, and Bo relaxed in the saddle. Mrs. Keller came out through the barn just then, carrying a small cloth sack in one hand.

"Here, Bo," she said, reaching up to hand it to him. "For Luke, and for you too."

He glanced inside the opening left by the loose drawstring and saw some envelopes of tea, a lemon, a bit of honeycomb in a beeswax packet, some home-brand cough drops, and a paper packet of what smelled like root-beer flavored hard candy. Bo smiled wide, hoping she didn't see the tears misting his eyes.

"Thanks, Mrs. Keller, and Mr. Keller. We'll be back before you know it," he promised, securing the sack in the top of the duffel bag.

Jonas patted the horse's neck affectionately, and stepped aside as Bo took up the reins and turned Black Morgan towards the fields. "Good luck, Bo."

With a smile and a nod, Bo said goodbye and urged the horse to a swift trot. Once they reached the hard-packed path between the broad acres, he lightly kicked the gelding into a gallop with a full-hearted "Yeeee-haaaww!" and rode for the hills.

**Y'know, it never ceases to amaze me how country folk take care of one another. Bo went to the Kellers hopin' for a kind word and some news, and he leaves with a full belly and a horse!**

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Even with the aid of Black Morgan, Bo was hard pressed to maketheeight milesto Jackson's Hollow within an hour. He was careful of his path as he guided his mount through the hills and trees, avoiding mud that would hold tracks, as well as unsteady terrain that would make the horse slip. Morgan was sure-footed, though, and the going was good. It sure beat running, in any case.

With just a few minutes to spare, had Bo been looking at a watch, he reached the secluded hollow, hidden in a stretch of woods where three hills converged. A natural spring flowed from one hillside in a streamlet down between the other two, and a few weathered boulders lay strewn about. The small clearing on either side of the stream wasn't much more than half an acre, with paths leading in from all sides and thick highbush blueberries concealing the space from all eyes. The hollow was far from the center of town and the main roads, bordering property owned by no one in particular, which probably meant it was Boss Hogg's. It was a popular enough destination for young couples on an afternoon picnic, very pretty and very private.

Bo tied Black Morgan loosely to a sapling behind a tall stand of bushes, otherwise leaving him ready for a quick getaway. The he approached the hollow, watching and listening for Cooter. The mechanic wasn't there yet, but it wasn't long before Bo heard ambling footsteps coming down the path. He came into view, looking around the clearing for his friend.

"Bo!" he called softly, looking in the other direction. "You out there?"

"Cooter!" Bo stood up from behind a bush, and grinned as his friend jumped a foot in the air, startled.

"Mother dog, Bobo! Don't do that!" Cooter scolded with a smile. He looked past his friend into the bushes. "Is Lucas Dukas there with ya?"

Bo stepped free of the bushes into the clearing, reassured that Cooter was alone. "No, just me. Why are we meeting all the way out here?" he asked. Cooter sat down on the grass, stretching his legs out, and Bo slumped down next to him.

"Because _you_ are in some serious trouble this time, man."

"Tell me about it," Bo agreed. "How much do you know?"

"More than you do, I'll bet. I heard they was chasin' you with _dogs_! How'd you get away from that?.!"

"Later, Cooter. What did you find out?" Bo asked impatiently.

Cooter was taken aback for a moment - Bo was never too serious to talk fun. Then again, Bo had never been runnin' from the FBI on murder charges either.

"Well, y'know how you told me the General was stolen?" Bo nodded. "Yesterday morning, I get a call from Enos, first thing in the mornin'. Mr. Langsford, down the south end of the county, found the General in Knockabout Creek, with two women in it, dead."

Bo stared at him, horrified at the very idea. "Dead? Like, drowned?"

"Shot, close range, while sitting in it. The gun was in the car, wiped clean of prints. Rosco and these FBI dudes piece that together with your stolen car report, and decide you were tryin' to make up an alibi to cover it up."

"Wait, when did the FBI get involved?"

Cooter shrugged. "I dunno. Enos said they were trailing these two lady car thieves across the state, but I ain't heard of a single theft that I didn't know…er, that was out of the ordinary."

"Lady car thieves? They were the ones killed?.!" Charlotte and Selena…now, Bo might have been mighty angry with them, but he wouldn't want them dead, not even for the General Lee!

Cooter cringed - he had seen the bodies when he pulled the car out of the creek. "Yeah, pretty little things, too."

They were silent for a moment - respect for the dead, Bo supposed. Then he asked, "What's happened since then? I mean, aside from me being chased across half the county."

"Well, they searched your place, an' had me confiscate your Uncle Jesse's truck - it's in the impound now with the General and Dixie, all as evidence."

"Dixie?.!"

Cooter cringed again - he hated being the bearer of bad news. "They arrested Daisy last night, at the Boar's Nest. I was there, too - she put up a heck of a fight, but there was too many of them, an' they carried her off in handcuffs. She's spittin' nails in one o' Rosco's jail cells, and worried sick about y'all. Where is Luke an' Uncle Jesse, anyhow?"

Bo sighed, and gave Cooter the summary of his side of the story, including the location of the hideout. Cooter looked increasingly concerned, and shook his head at Bo's escape from the bloodhounds.

"Hoo! I always knew you had some smarts in you, Bo!" he razzed his friend, ruffling his blond hair.

Bo laughed. "Yeah, who knew?"

"I'm glad y'all got away, though, an' glad you didn't try my place. I've had more tails than a double-sided quarter since y'all disappeared, an' it took some waggin' to get rid of them to come here. I think ol' Rosco figures you're gonna walk right into my garage and take me to Sunday brunch, and then he'll have you." Bo grinned at the thought, picturing the look on Rosco's face if he did such a thing. Cooter continued though, more seriously. "Don't you come anywheres near town though, Bo. The place is crawling with feds, an' they're searching the roads for you. Keep to the hills, stay low."

"But Cooter, we can't keep runnin' like this! There's got to be something we can to do prove ourselves innocent! All they've got is…"

"…Two bodies, a gun, your car, and a motive," Cooter counted off on his fingers.

"But…we've got an alibi…"

"Your own uncle. And not for the five-six hours you were missing."

"But, we were drugged!"

"Can you prove it?" Cooter was only asking echoes of the questions and answers he'd overheard, from his tails and from Enos, as they discussed the case. He looked as miserable at the answers as his friend.

"Yes!"

Cooter looked up sharply. Bo snapped his fingers in a very Luke-like fashion. "The glasses those girls gave us that lemonade in - we left them in the grass by the side of the road! If they're still there…!"

"Then y'all might have a fighting chance!"

Bo jumped to his feet, his mind racing. "I've got to get back up to Uncle Jesse and Luke first…then I can ride out to Chickasaw…but what about Daisy?" His face fell. "We can't leave her locked up in there!"

Cooter climbed to his feet as well. "You let me worry about Daisy. I've got a few ideas. Like I said, y'all stay out of town and off the roads - they're lookin' for you. I'll get ahold of you if I have more news."

Bo nodded agreement. "Leave word with the Kellers or the Suttons if you have to."

Cooter clapped him on the shoulder. "Take care of yourself, buddy."

"You too, Cooter."

Both moving at a jog, they disappeared into the underbrush in their respective directions, Cooter to the truck that waited over the next hill, and Bo to the borrowed gelding that waited impatiently. Black Morgan chomped at the bit to be off again just as much as the youngest Duke cousin, who quickly untied him, swung into the saddle, and took off with a whoop.

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	6. Meanwhile, Back at the Cave

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Chapter 6: Meanwhile, Back at the Cave

**Now, what do you say we change things up a bit, and have a look at what Uncle Jesse an' Luke are up to?**

Earlier that morning, after Bo left, Jesse Duke was restless himself. He went back inside by the fire and tried to go back to sleep, but 52 years of habitually waking up at dawn combined with a knot of worry in his gut foiled his efforts. Instead he stoked the fire back up to a blaze and kept an eye on his eldest nephew, who hadn't moved a whisker since Bo left. After adding another hefty log onto the fire, Jesse noticed how low the supply of firewood was running, and decided to collect more. Hopefully the wet wood outside could dry by the flames enough to be useful. He could probably burn some of the loose chunks of coal, but the thick black smoke that would result would be as good as a signal fire to the enemy.

His excursions into the surrounding woods were short, limited by what he could carry and how long he was willing to leave Luke alone. He found thick, heavy branches, cutting them into sizeable pieces with Luke's knife, or young fallen trees that could be broken with the proper leverage. Some logs had been rotting so long, they were useless, but he chanced upon someone's leftover summer woodcuts, a precious cache of pre-cut and only superficially wet logs and smaller pieces. These he gathered with zeal, to feed the hungry flames. Luke slept still, undisturbed by his movements in and out of the cave tunnel.

Eventually, Jesse had hoarded more wood than he could hope to burn in a week, and he stopped, brushing the stubborn wood splinters off his overalls. With the wood gathered and several pieces drying by the flames, he was left again with nothing to do but wait. Restless again, Jesse walked out to the mouth of the cave, and saw that morning had passed and the sun was high in the sky overhead. With a thoughtful frown, his eyes traced the route of the path down to the overgrown parking lot below, many memories contained in the deserted place. He looked out down the road as far as he could see, and imagined the next road meeting up with it a half-mile down, breaking off in two directions - one way led into town, to the main roads, and the other back towards the countryside, past the Downing farm just a little ways on the left…

The thought stuck with him. The Downing farm wasn't very far. Jesse was friends with Joel Downing and his wife Sandy. He could be down there and back with something for Luke to eat when he woke up, and learn some news at the same time. Bo didn't have to be the only one working to solve this. His resolve firming, Jesse went back inside to check on his nephew again. No change, though Jesse wasn't sure whether to be pleased he was resting or worried he was sleeping so long. That settled it, though - less than a mile, he'd be there and back again in a jiffy.

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The walk had been pleasant, though Jesse's results were poor. The Downings weren't home - probably off at Sunday dinner with friends - and Jesse didn't even consider entering their home when they weren't there. He did, though pick up the Sunday paper that a paperboy had thrown onto the porch, and fished into his pockets for a quarter to leave in the mailbox for the boon. In doing so, he also found the card Jed Hawkins had handed him two nights before - _John Hawkins, M.D._ He replaced it in the pocket of his overalls, a hint of a thought in the back of his mind. Then he'd turned back, rolled paper in hand, across the road and over the wooded hills back to the mine. It _was_ Sunday, Jesse mused, and could hardly believe that he'd forgotten. It was rare that the Dukes didn't go to church together every Sunday morning, dressed in their best and singing along with the hymns. Then he considered how much time he'd spent praying in the last 48 hours, and though he knew it didn't quite make up for missing church, he thought God would understand.

Jesse's heart dropped into his stomach, though, when he came to the edge of the trees below the mine and saw Luke sitting out in plain view, leaning against the cave entrance, apparently dozing. How long had he been there? Had anyone seen him? Jesse hurried across the field and up the path, and when he was close enough, he called to his nephew.

"Luke!"

His voice seemed to startle the young man, who looked up with unfocused eyes and immediately started coughing again. Jesse reached him before he finished, kneeling down next to him. Luke slumped back, exhausted, and spat something green and red onto the dirt.

"Come on, Luke, let's get you back by the fire," Jesse said, pulling his nephew's arm around his neckand lifting him to his feet. Luke wavered before leaning against his uncle, and slowly Jesse guided him back inside. "What were you doing out there, son?" he asked gently.

"I was…was looking for Bo," Luke said wearily. "He's late."

Jesse stopped in the dim light and put a hand to Luke's forehead. He was burning up. "Easy, son, Bo's just fine." Just a little ways further. "He'll be back soon." They rounded the bend where the fire burned brightly, back to the spot against the wall. Jesse didn't let go, eased his nephew to the ground, and sat down himself, beside him. Luke shivered, cold again, and curled up close to his uncle. Jesse threw an arm around him and held him close, staring worriedly at the flickering flames as Luke fell asleep against his shoulder. He hoped Bo would be back soon.

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The newspaper, which Jesse had jammed in a pocket, gave as much information as Cooter and the Kellers told Bo. '**MURDER**' was the bold headline splashed across the front page, with pictures of all the Duke family - mugshots even, of the boys - and a long article incriminating enough to almost convince Jesse himself of his own guilt. So when Bo arrived, leading the gelding with clip-clopping echoes up and down the tunnel, he didn't have a lot of information that his uncle didn't already know.

In nearly two hours, Jesse hadn't moved from Luke's side, though the young man had woken at intervals coughing or asking about Bo or Daisy. He was sleeping again when Bo came in, and his cousin's first question was, "How is he?"

When Jesse replied, "Worse," Bo immediately unstrapped the duffel bag from behind the saddle and began pulling out the supplies he'd brought - blankets, food, the canteens that he'd filled at the stream, Mrs. Keller's medicine kit. They covered Luke up and organized the items as best they could, and Bo set the pot to boil water for tea before Jesse shooed him off and made him tend to the horse.

Quickly Bo pulled off the reins and the saddle and dried the horse off briskly. Black Morgan snorted irritably at his speed, but Bo ignored him. When he reached for the horse's halter to tie a lead to a heavy firewood log, though, Bo pulled his hand back just fast enough to avoid the gelding's teeth. "Eh-eh-eh!" Bo tutted a low warning, in no mood for games himself, and took hold of the halter firmly. He tied the knot, trading stubborn looks with the horse, and let go. When he spread a handful of hay out for the gelding, Black Morgan figured he wasn't that bad, and whickered his nonchalance.

Bo, in the meantime, had moved back into the firelight, peering down at his cousin and uncle as he sat against the wall opposite the pair. Luke stirred again under the blankets as he sat down, opening burning eyes to squint across the fire at Bo.

"You're back," he observed hoarsely, sitting up a little straighter.

Bo nodded. "How ya feelin', cuz?"

"Terrible." **cough cough**. At least he was honest.

"I brought some food back. You want somethin' to eat?"

Luke shook his head, cut off by another hacking fit.

"You need to eat something, Luke," Jesse said, picking up one of the canteens and opening it for him. First he just wet his throat, trying not to choke on the water, but then he drank thirstily, in small gulps, until a third of the canteen was empty. He handed it back to Jesse with quiet thanks, and leaned back against the cool stone wall.

"Here," Bo said, leaning across to place a thick slice of bread in his hand, slathered in strawberry preserves.

Luke smiled tiredly. "You don't give up, do you?"

Bo just smiled triumphantly as he broke the slice in half and took a bite of the soft middle, wincing slightly as he swallowed. Then Bo served Jesse a similar piece of bread and jam as well, and began cutting the cheese and apples into slices. Luke finished all but the hard crust of the bread, but refused anything more. He drank more of the water, and was dozing again while Jesse was still eating. Bo deferred to his earlier meal and handed the bits of food instead to his uncle. He watched his cousin fall asleep, near-empty canteen in hand, with very concerned blue eyes. Jesse moved the canteen and pulled the loose blankets back up to his neck and over his shoulders, as Luke continued to lean against him.

"He needs a doctor," Bo decided firmly, thinking of how to change his plans for the evening. He'd intended to ride back out towards Chickasaw, to collect the only evidence of their innocence. Dusting crumbs off his hands, Bo started to stand up, only to be stopped by Uncle Jesse.

"Hold your horses, now," Jesse waved him back down, smiling as he realized his words. "You don't have to run right off. Let's talk about all this first. What did you find out, out there? Did you have any trouble at the farmhouse?"

Bo shook his head, and told the short tale of his efforts that day, with not a detail left out. In particular, he emphasized his conversation with Cooter, and his original plans for the night. "He said to let him worry about Daisy," Bo finished. "So he must have something in mind to spring her out. At the least he can tell her we're alright, and what's going on. How was things here?"

"Quiet, no trouble. Luke's been…in and out, mostly sleeping. His fever's gotten worse." Jesse told him about his trip down to the Downings' and the article in the newspaper, though he omitted the incident with Luke - no need to worry his nephew unnecessarily. "Anyone who reads this article, friend or not, is gonna think you're guilty, and me for helping you," he said, handing Bo the newspaper. Bo read a few lines by firelight and tossed it aside angrily.

"What now, Uncle Jesse?" he asked, almost wishing he could just curl up and sleep like Luke, so he wouldn't have to think or worry and let someone else take care of things. Then, Bo considered, he usually depended on someone else to plan and think for him - it wasn't comfortable being in the same position.

Jesse considered silently. He, on the other hand, was quite used to his nephews and niece looking to him for guidance, ever since their parents died and he had raised them. He took each new problem in stride, and this was just a much bigger problem than usual.

"Well," he finally spoke, "I think your original plan is a good one. We'll need that evidence if we're going to prove you innocent. But I also think I'd like to add a little bit to it." He reached in his pocket and pulled out the business card. He handed it to Bo, who immediately understood. "After you get those cups, you ride on to the Hawkins place, and talk with Jed and his son. If they're willing, I'd like them to drive out here and pick me and Luke up, so we can get him looked at and take him to the hospital if we need to."

"But…" Bo began to object. The hospital would ask for ID, and they'd be arrested.

"Bo, I'd rather be in jail." Jesse didn't finish the rest of the sentence. "Do you think you can ride that far, tonight?"

The youngest Duke nodded eagerly, "As long as the moon's out, yes." For Luke, anything. Now he pulled himself to his feet, only to hear "Hold it!" before he'd taken a step. He looked back questioningly.

"Let's have a look at those feet."

Bo didn't realize that he'd winced as he put weight on them. Sitting back down, he obediently pulled off his boots, hissing as the socks stuck to the boots and his skin stuck to the socks. Slowly he pulled off each sock, revealing a dozen or more large open and seeping blisters on the soles of his feet, the bleeding product of many miles in little time in boots poorly suited for cross-country racing.

"That's what I thought." Jesse eased away from Luke and shifted through the meager supplies, picking up the canteen, a few of the extra pairs of socks, and the jar of moonshine. The he walked around the fire and pulled the pot of boiling water out of the heat. As Bo watched, he poured some of the boiling water into the canteen, mixing it with the cooler water inside, until the temperature was warm but bearable. Then he poured in a shot or two of the fiery alcoholic drink, and swirled it around together, and Bo understood - it was effectively an antiseptic.

"Hold still," Jesse half-warned, half-ordered his nephew, and gently poured the warm concoction over Bo's sores. Oh, how it burned! Bo grit his teeth, but after the first fierce sting was past, it felt good. Using a dry sock, Jesse wiped his feet off, then applied the mixture again, until it was gone. The waste water drained outwards down the tunnel, leaving a thin wet line behind. Done, Jesse handed Bo two pairs of socks, with orders to double-up on the padding before he put his boots back on. Easing the leather boots back over his feet, Bo sighed in relief.

"Thanks, Uncle Jesse." Now, he could last through the night and on through tomorrow, if need be.

"Oh, you're welcome, Bo. Y'know, you don't have to hide it from me if you're hurtin', or if you're hungry," Jesse nodded towards the apple slices he'd palmed. "Just 'cause Luke's sick, doesn't mean you have to do the job of both of you."

Bo smiled - somehow Uncle Jesse always seemed to figure him out. "Thanks, Uncle Jesse. These, though," he held up the apple slices, "are for the horse. Figured I ought to stay on his good side, if I don't want to be thrown off."

He walked - quite comfortably - over to the edge of the shadows where Black Morgan stood, dropping the hay he'd been working on at the proffered apples. Crunching contentedly, he stood still while Bo lifted the saddle and padding into place, and didn't even try to pull the trick of inhaling deeply so the saddle girth would loosen up later. Bo tightened the fastenings, and waited until the horse was done with the apples before slipping on the reins. He lay his bow across the saddle, where it would sit in front of him while he rode. He also tied a bundle of spare arrows and dynamite behind the saddle in easy reach, along with the small sack, now empty, to put the glasses in. Jesse watched, and when Bo's hands were free he handed his nephew his warm wool coat from the supplies, the extra canteen, and the packet of root-beer candy. Bo smiled, slipping the packet into his coat breast pocket, and checked himself, trying to think if there was anything else he should take. Thinking of nothing more, he looked to Jesse, ready to go.

"You've got everything? The address?"

Bo patted the same coat breast pocket. "Right here."

"You know the way back to that road?"

"Yes sir."

"Good luck then, Bo. Take care of yourself."

For a moment, Bo was tempted to salute, because this felt very much like a military mission. "Yes sir, Uncle Jesse. I'll be back by dawn at the latest, one way or another."

With one more glance at Luke, Bo turned and led the gelding out of the cave into the fading daylight. Jesse watched him disappear into the darkness, and then turned and walked back past the fire to sit with his eldest nephew again, to wait and think and pray.

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	7. Revelations

**Author's Notes: In case anyone's curious, the phone number given is in fact the Georgia State Police - I was kinda nervous about randomly generating one, so I looked one up instead. Enjoy!**

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Chapter 7: Revelations

While Bo returned to his family at Bentley's Caves, Cooter got back to his truck and headed back into town, hoping the FBI agents trailing him wouldn't be too suspicious after he'd eluded them on the back roads. They quickly caught up to him again once he turned back onto Highway 124, and he snickered as he saw their gray sedan slide into sight in his rear-view mirror, as though they'd been waiting for him all along. They kept their distance, trying not to be too obvious, but close enough to keep him from getting away again.

Ignoring them, Cooter drove straight back to his garage in town, trying to decide on the best plan for springing Daisy from jail. He thought of some of the plans that had worked before, but most of them involved Bo and Luke working together to hoodwink Enos, and those agents wouldn't be fooled so easily. There were at least half a dozen of them hanging around the sheriff's department at any given time, not to mention the ones on the roads in and out of town, or the pair with the bloodhounds occupying the spare cell on the first floor. Cooter climbed out of the truck and pulled off his cap, scratching his hair. Probably best to go talk to Daisy first, then.

The mechanic strolled towards the sheriff's department, whistling half a tune and brightly greeting the men who turned and watched him suspiciously, while he thought about how to convince them to let him see Daisy. Fortunately, Enos was on duty, which made things a whole lot easier. Cooter walked right in and headed down the stairs towards the jail cells.

"Hang on there, Cooter! What're you're doin'?" Enos stopped him on the third step.

"Well hi, Enos! I was just goin' down to see Daisy."

"Well, I'm-I'm sorry, Cooter, but it's not visiting hours. I'm gonna have to ask you to leave."

"Enos! It's Sunday! An' that poor girl's been stuck all alone in there since _you_ arrested her, very unfairly I might add, on Friday night!" Cooter affected a scolding expression and an accusing tone. "If she ain't allowed a visitor on God's day of rest, from a good friend like myself, then I am just ashamed of you, Enos!"

Enos looked guiltier and guiltier as he spoke. The constant contradiction between his job and his friends plagued the young man, and this time, Enos gave in. "I guess a little visit won't hurt," he said, picking at the papers in his hand. It was a small fraction of the files Rosco kept on the Duke family, which Agent Brown was going through page by page for a clue to their whereabouts.

Cooter grinned broadly. "Thanks, Enos!" Then he turned and ambled down the stairs, nonchalant until he was out of sight. Around the bend in the stairs, he took four great hopping steps to reach Daisy's cell.

"Cooter!" Daisy cried in a hushed voice. She had a million questions to ask him as he pulled up a chair and leaned in close to the bars.

"Hush now, Daisy, I got a lot to say and not much time…" Quickly and quietly, he summarized all he knew of the last two days' events, from the discovery of the General Lee to the bloodhound chase to Luke illness, and Bo's plan to collect the evidence. This last part he told extra quietly, so spying ears couldn't overhear, and he left out the hiding spot altogether. Daisy held all her questions until he was done, and he asked her, "Now, how are we gonna get you out of here?"

"I don't know, it's not that I haven't tried, but every time they come down here to bring me food or take me to the ladies' room, four or five of them come at once, and with more upstairs, I just couldn't figure on getting past them!"

Cooter sighed. That was even worse - if she could have broken free even for a few minutes, he could have been waiting out front to drive getaway. He looked up at the bars on the window looking out onto the street. But maybe… He leaned in close, and explained his plan.

**Y'all get the feelin' there's a little shuck an' jive comin', Davenport-style?**

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Cooter worked on one of the cars in his shop, watching the minutes tick by on the clock. Five o'clock, Daisy said, that was when they'd bring dinner. These FBI fellows were very timely with her meals. Five o'clock. There wasn't a whole lot for the mechanic to do until then, being short on parts though long on impatient customers, so he tried to look busy at least. He'd closed the garage doors, seemingly against the cool temperatures outside, but mostly just to annoy the agents trying to watch his every move. To pass the time, he worked on some of the body work required by several of the cars waiting for other parts, pounding out dents and reshaping the metal. Five o'clock.

At five of, he left off his idle tasks and made his way to one corner of the garage. Pushed off to the side was an old VW Rabbit, owned by a nice elderly couple close to town who rarely used the old thing. About a month ago the grandmotherly woman had called Cooter to tow it to his garage and have it looked at, but money was tight and she had him wait to fix it. The problem was, the engine was misfiring, in very loud, very gunshot-like bursts. In other words, it was perfect for Cooter's purposes.

He waited until just after five. The group of agents would be coming down the stairs, now standing guard as one opened Daisy's cell to hand her the dinner tray. With a twist of the key, Cooter started the car, and **POW! POW POW!** the resounding blasts echoed in the garage and outside. The garage door flew open as Cooter staggered out from between the cars, holding a wet, black stain in his side, and a handful of the vigilant FBI agents came in, guns drawn.

"It's Bo and Luke! They're crazy! They ran, that way!" Cooter pointed towards the loft and open windows leading onto the roof - the Duke boys' favorite alternate entrance.

The group split up to head off the enemy, and Cooter ducked down out of sight, wiping engine oil off his hands onto his pants. Then he ducked out the back door and snuck across towards the sheriff's department, watching the frenzy outside as concerned citizens hid themselves and FBI agents scattered through the streets, looking for the shooters. He smiled as the sheriff's department emptied. A moment later, Daisy came running out, looking all around for him.

"Psst!" he hissed, waving his cap, and she ran to join him hiding among the bushes.

"Good job, Cooter!" she congratulated him, and together they turned to creep along the bushes and make for his truck.

"Yes, and it might have worked, too," came a deep voice behind them. Cooter and Daisy both turned, raising their hands in surrender as they looked up the muzzles of a half-dozen guns. "Except I know as well as you do the Dukes are innocent, and wouldn't shoot a gun unless their lives depended on it for fear of violating their probation - much less actually murder two pretty little ladies."

The two friends stood up straight, staring stunned at Agent Derek Brown and a growing gathering of his men. He motioned with his gun, and they turned back towards the jailhouse, marching inside with grim revelation.

**Now I don't know about you, but I'll take Rosco over these boys any day.**

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Bo took a circuitous route through the county to reach Oldhall Road, which lay to the southwest, from the mine, which was in the northeast, maybe five miles outside of town. The failing light made the going difficult as he had to move cross-country while circling the town, and often it was just as easy to dismount and lead the horse through uneven terrain. After two hours' efforts, though, he was on the far side of the town and away from the main roads, and he urged the horse to a faster pace down the dirt roads by the meager moonlight.

The distance was much longer by horse, though, than by car, and after a while Bo had to force himself to stop thinking of how fast he could have made it in the General Lee. Plus, even on the back roads, he had to listen for approaching vehicles and hide when a car passed. Once, caught between open pastures with no cover, he'd led the tall horse among the grazing cattle and hid himself behind one of the beasts, hoping the passing driver didn't look too closely at the herd. After that, he quickened the pace further, nerves on edge.

Finally, though, he arrived at the long road stretching far into Chickasaw County, and with a sigh, he turned Black Morgan down the deserted dirt stretch. Once out of sight from the intersection, he dismounted and found a streamlet trickling along for the horse to drink from, and took a rest himself. Bo's feet sure were feeling better, but his tail was getting sore. Tendrils of steam curled off his mount in the chilly night air, and he wrapped the folds of his wool coat tighter around him, leaning against a tree. It wasn't until he snapped awake that he realized he was starting to fall asleep, so he stamped his feet to warm his legs and waited for the horse to take one last drink of water before remounting. They set off again at a trot.

Bo broke out the packet of candy and his canteen, the sugar rush and swigs of water keeping him awake. He tried to remember just how long this road was, and where they'd stopped for the RV, but the details were fuzzy and he resigned himself to dully staring at the road as the horse moved along. It was quite late before the sight of a log on the side of the road caught his attention - it was where he and Luke had stopped for a rest two nights before. With renewed energy, he eagerly watched the road on the left, knowing he was close. Another mile went by before he spotted the object he was looking for, glittering in the dim light among the grass. Bo reined in the gelding and dismounted, untying the empty sack from behind the saddle as well. Picking up the empty glass, he held it up and saw the filmy residue on the inside, between the yellow flower pattern, and hoped it contained what they needed. Then, carefully, he stepped down the slope to where Luke had fallen. That glass lay half-submerged in the rainwater ditch, and Bo wasn't sure how useful it would be. He picked it up and poured it out anyways, drying the wet outside on his jeans, and added it to the sack, tying the drawstring firmly.

Mission 'A' accomplished, Bo walked back up the slope to the waiting horse and secured the sack. Now on to Mission 'B'. A long yawn struck him, and he saw Black Morgan's ears were drooping too, head hung tiredly.

"Whaddaya think, Blackie? A few more miles tonight?" he asked the animal, stroking his broad neck. The horse snorted and rattled the reins with a shake of his head. _You might be tired, but I'm not._ Bo smiled and swung himself back up into the saddle. "Let's go, then."

He urged the horse into a slow trot, but after that he let Morgan set his own pace, which varied from walk to canter. Bo dozed some for minutes at a time, waking sharply each time he caught himself. Once, he nearly fell off entirely when Black Morgan suddenly surged into a gallop to pace a herd of deer startled from the woods. Catching the saddle in time, he managed to convince the horse to slow down so he could pull himself back upright. Looking around, he found they had just passed the broad rolling mudflats where the boys had so much fun on Friday afternoon, and he knew there wasn't much more than a couple of miles to the end of this blasted road. He watched alertly for the massive manor house as the horse ambled along.

As he reckoned by the moon's path in the sky, it was well after midnight when Bo arrived at the tall iron-wrought gate to the old Willet Hall, Hawkins Hall now. He stared through the bars, wondering if anyone would come open them at this hour, when the gate shifted under his hand. It wasn't locked. He pushed it open and rode right on through up to the modest manor, dismounting at the broad front porch and walking up to the door.

It took several minutes of pounding on the door - he didn't dare shout, because he didn't know what neighbors were nearby - before anyone in the household woke. When the door opened, Bo found himself face to face with a moustached man easily twenty years his senior, with a dry, studious expression and an odd accent.

"Can I help you, son?"

Servants? Jed Hawkins had servants? "I…I…I need to speak with Jed Hawkins," Bo finally tumbled out. The man looked at him skeptically. "It's important, please."

"Come on in," he gestured, glancing past Bo with raised eyebrows at the horse tethered to the front porch. Bo stepped in, and he closed the door.

The moustached man led him into a side room, tastefully furnished with leather armchairs and shelves of books along two walls. He switched on a soft lamp in the corner. "If you'll wait here, I'll fetch my father."

A short while later, he returned, followed by old Jed Hawkins in his robe and slippers. Bo didn't dare sit down, for fear of falling asleep waiting, so he stood studying the titles of the medical books on the shelves when they walked in.

"Bo Duke!" Jed exclaimed in surprise, stepping forward to greet the boy warmly. The other man watched, reserved, by the doorway. "What are you doing here this time of night? Is everything alright?"

There was something in his enthusiasm and tone that made Bo step back and look at him closely. "Did you read the paper this morning?" he asked, almost fearfully.

"Read the paper? Well, yes, with breakfast, why?"

"So you've seen the article."

"Article? What article? Bo, what are you talking about, my boy? Are you feeling alright? Sit down," Jed ushered him into a high-backed chair and sat down in another next to him, with a glance towards the other man.

Bo stared at him incredulously. "Well, the article in the paper this morning, about the murders, the FBI, everything."

"Son, I haven't read anything about the FBI in the tricounty paper in a month, since that shootout outside of Atlanta."

"But…I…" Bo realized that he probably sounded like a complete lunatic.

Hawkins turned to the other man. "John, would you mind getting this morning's paper, and maybe some tea?"

"Certainly, Dad." The moustached man stepped out of the room and closed the door.

Bo sat with Hawkins in uncomfortable silence for a moment, before the young Duke looked up sharply towards the window and rose to his feet. "My horse, I shouldn't leave him out there like this, we've been out all day…"

"Sit," Jed motioned with a wave. "John told me, and I already asked Henry to take care of it. Our butler, housekeeper, cook, mechanic, hostler, and handyman," he answered the young man's unvoiced question, "and he's well paid for it, too."

It wasn't long before John returned with a tray of tea and the Sunday paper rolled under one arm. He placed a cup of the one in Bo's cold hands, handed the other to his father, and sat back himself in a third armchair on the Duke's other side.

"I don't believe I introduced you - Bo, this is my son John, the doctor. John, this is Bo Duke, Jesse Duke's youngest nephew." Hands were shook and greetings exchanged, and Jed continued. "Now, why don't you start from the beginning. Slowly," he advised as Bo immediately started to speak. "Take a deep breath. What's happened?"

Slowly at first, then faster as he went on, Bo told the tale from the top, including the new information Cooter had offered. The theft of the General Lee, Hawkins knew already. He told of the discovery the next morning, the arrival of the FBI in town, then to the Duke farm, the cross-country chase, the night in the cave, Luke's illness, Uncle Jesse's worry, Bo's journey back to the farm, to the Kellers', to Jackson's Hollow to meet with Cooter, to the cave, about the newspaper article, and then back out to collect the evidence and plead with the Hawkins for help. When he was done, he seemed to realize the warm cup of tea was still in his hands, and he took a sip while younger and elder Hawkins chewed over the information. John spoke first.

"Well, we can certainly help your cousin. We'll drive on out there tonight to get him and your uncle both, and I'll have a look at him." The doctor didn't mention his thoughts on the diagnosis - young Bo looked quite upset enough already. "But all this about the newspaper, it just doesn't make sense."

Jed unfolded the morning's paper and handed it to Bo. It was a completely different paper. Same date, some of the articles were the same, but no headline of murder, just a scattering of minor articles about the recent municipal elections. Bo stared, trying to make sense of it.

"It seems like someone's going through an awful lot of effort to make you Dukes look guilty, to everyone in Hazzard," Jed commented.

"What was that you said about the FBI?" Bo asked with a sudden thought.

"The FBI? Eh, that the last article I read about them was a month ago?" Jed exchanged a look with his son.

"Yeah, a shootout, you said - what happened?"

Jed looked to his son to remember the details.

"Some kind of prisoner transport, if I remember right, from Atlanta to a maximum security prison in Virginia. It was a big mess, an ambush, a half-dozen agents killed. I think the guy got away - did they ever catch him?" John asked his father, who shook his head negative.

"Do you remember his name?" Bo asked anxiously.

John thought about it for a moment. "Lerner, maybe?"

"Leavins, I think," Jed corrected him.

They both looked at Bo, who had turned pale. The Dukes didn't get the newspaper regularly. He set down his cup to keep his shaking hands from spilling the cooling liquid.

"Could I use your phone? It's long-distance," he asked.

"Well, sure." John stood and led him into the next room, where a phone sat on a broad desk, and left him in privacy, returning to the study with his father.

From the next room, they heard him speaking to the operator. "Could I…" Bo stopped, clearing his throat. "Could I have the Atlanta office of the FBI, please?"

Silence.

"Ah, yes, ma'am, I was wondering if you might put me through to Agent Dan Chalmers. It's an emergency." Pause. "Oh…I'm so sorry, I didn't know…Well, how about Jack Carter?"

Silence.

"Can't you call him at home? This really is an emergency!…Yes, m'am. When do you…? Could you have him call me as soon as he gets in? Bo…Beauregard Duke from Hazzard County, at…Mr. Hawkins? What's the number here?"

"404-624-7000."

"At 404-624-7000. Yes ma'am, thank you."

Bo hung up the phone and walked back into the study, slumping down into the empty chair. The Hawkins looked at him expectantly.

"Last summer, my cousin Daisy witnessed a murder out on Wyle's Lake. We ended up in the middle of an FBI investigation into some conspiracy in Congress. Sonny Leavins was the leader, and tried to kill all of us. If he's loose…"

"…Then he'll want revenge, to kill the flies in the ointment," Jed finished for him.

"First they publicly humiliate and discredit you, then they cart you off and kill you quietly, after no one will miss you," John guessed.

"And they get Rosco and Enos to help," Bo added with sudden fear. "We've got to get Daisy out of there!" He rose to his feet, and wavered where he stood.

"Sit down, Bo," John Hawkins half-ordered. His tone implied no argument; he hadn't been a doctor for eighteen years for nothing. "Dad, could I speak with you outside for a minute?"

Jed looked up, curious, and stood. "Certainly, John. Bo, we'll be right back." Father and son filed out the door and closed it behind them.

"What is it, John?" Jed asked softly in the hallway. "Don't you believe him?"

The middle-aged doctor shook his head. "No, I believe him all right, and I think he's right, but if we let him, he'll go charging back out there and make himself just as sick as his cousin. I think if we stay out here long enough, he'll fall dead asleep in that chair, and we can go take care of his family. Do you know where these mines are?"

Jed nodded, agreeing with his son. "Oh, yes. Used to work them, before your mother died."

"Good. Why don't we go get dressed, and come back and check on him? I'll let Henry know what's going on."

-----------------

Just as John Hawkins predicted, when he came downstairs not ten minutes later, Bo was sound asleep in the study, exhausted from a long day and little sleep the night before. He carried a blanket in with him and covered the boy up, and then went to find Henry, the manservant.

Henry was just coming in from grooming and tending Black Morgan in the stables out back. John met him in the kitchen, and explained the situation briefly.

"The young man in the study's name is Bo Duke. He's in quite a difficult situation, and we're going to help him out. My father and I are going to fetch his cousin and uncle from somewhere in Hazzard, and we may not be back until tomorrow - his cousin sounds quite ill, and might need to go to the hospital. Don't let Bo leave until he hears from us - we'll call with news if we don't come straight back here. He's sleeping now, but if he wakes, feed him, show him a bed and a shower if he wants. Tell him we said to stay here. I believe he's expecting a phone call anyway."

"Yes, sir." Henry had worked for the Hawkins for several years, since the doctor had made his wealth investing intelligently in the stock market in Chicago. He appreciated the clear efficiency of John Hawkins' orders, and performed his duties with pride. "I'll see to it Mr. Duke is informed and taken care of."

John smiled. "Thank you, Henry. Good night."

A few minutes later, Jed and John Hawkins were driving John's late-model sedan out the gate and down Oldhall Road. It was nearly two o'clock in the morning.

**Y'know, I knew I liked this Hawkins fella from the minute he stopped to give the boys a ride. His son's an apple fallen right close to the tree too!**

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	8. Nick of Time

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**Chapter 8: Nick of Time**

"Let's try this one more time."

The sheriff's department was empty, but for the handful of men and the two prisoners standing and sitting outside the jail cells in the basement. Rosco and Enos had gone home at seven, an hour earlier, convinced that nothing more was to be done today. Boss Hogg was at the Boar's Nest, counting the previous night's profits. That left Cooter and Daisy alone, with Agent Derek Brown and his men. Both prisoners sat, tied firmly to chairs against the wall, and the severe faces of the so-called agents made a half-circle around them. Brown drew his gun, and pointed it at Cooter's knee.

"Where are the Dukes hiding?"

Cooter mutely stared at the men's feet. **BAM!** He flinched as the bullet blasted into the concrete floor, passing within an inch of his leg. Brown moved the hot muzzle back against his knee.

"I won't miss a second time, Mr. Davenport. We know you spoke with one of them. Where are the Dukes?"

Daisy looked on in horror. She couldn't watch Cooter get shot for his loyalty. "They're at the lake," she blurted suddenly. "They're at Wyle's Lake."

Brown scrutinized her with cold eyes. "I think you're lying," he decided. He moved the gun from Cooter's knee to his temple. Daisy gasped, and Cooter shut his eyes tightly. "Are you lying?"

"Don't tell them, Daisy," Cooter urged hoarsely.

Tears flowed to Daisy's eyes. Her friend or her family? "Jackson's Hollow." Her voice was broken and heavy. She looked down and the tears spilled onto her cheeks. "They're hiding at Jackson's Hollow."

Brown lowered the gun and smiled a cruel smile. "Now that's better. Lock them up," he ordered his men, "And bring in the others. We're going hunting."

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Not a half-hour later, Brown and his men reached Jackson's Hollow, with guns drawn. The men assigned to trailing Cooter confirmed it was the area they'd lost him in earlier. They charged in on the peaceful clearing with the gurgling stream, disturbing only a mourning dove from a shrub. Brown snarled in anger as he realized the trick, while his men fanned out and searched along the branching trails.

"Sir!" one of them called. He walked over to the man, who pointed to two clear and fresh sets of hoofprints and dung in a patch of mud, one set coming, the other set going back the same way.

Brown smiled that same cruel smile. "Bring down the dogs. They were here."

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Jesse Duke had a decision to make.

While Bo's arrival seemed to bolster Luke's strength, and he'd lost that dazed expression when talking with his cousin, Luke had only gotten worse since Bo's departure. He blazed with fever, and instead of sweating, his skin was hot and dry. Jesse tried cooling him off with a wet cloth, wiping his forehead and cheeks as he muttered and talked in his sleep. After a few hours, Luke had woken up as his breaths became rapid and shallow, trying desperately not to cough in the painful fits that robbed his strength and brought up unending amounts of blood-flecked green phlegm. He stopped asking about Bo or Daisy in the sleepy tone from earlier in the afternoon, and instead sat upright against the stone wall with his eyes closed, concentrating on nothing but the breath going in and out of his lungs. When Jesse stood or moved, Luke would open his eyes and watch his movements without a word. Jesse had quietly explained Bo's plan, that help was on the way, that Jesse would take care of him. He even managed to coax Luke to sip honeyed tea, but Luke refused more when the warmth only made him cough again. Jesse paced anxiously from Luke and the fire to the cave entrance and back, watching the road for some sign of Bo returning with the cavalry.

He'd come running at Luke's last coughing fit, which left him red-faced and clutching his chest in pain - he'd broken a rib with one deep hacking cough. Jesse knelt next to him, searching for the wound, breathing hard himself as he could only watch his nephew's misery.

"It hurts, Uncle Jesse." Luke's voice was a raspy whisper, almost pleading, eyes closed again as he leaned back against the cool wall.

That made up Jesse's mind. He couldn't wait any longer. Bo would understand.

The waning moon was high overhead, leaning down towards the western sky in the velvet field of stars, as Jesse left the black cave behind, carrying his eldest nephew wrapped in warm blankets. He walked slowly and carefully, trying not to jostle the young man in his arms, down the path and across the field towards the Downing farm. Wanted or not, arrested or not, Luke needed to go to the hospital and Jesse Duke would get him there. He hadn't long entered the woods when Jesse heard the baying of dogs somewhere in the night, somewhere close. _God, no, not now._ Let him get his boy to safety first.

Jesse turned and looked through the trees to see three bloodhounds, one after the other, break out of the trees on the far side of the field, followed by a dozen armed men and the two handlers in cowboy hats. The men made straight for the cave as soon as they saw it, charging in with guns drawn. Jesse didn't wait to see any more. Holding Luke closer, he moved as quickly as he could through the trees. Only a half mile. Just a half mile. Luke's rapid breathing matched his own by the time he reached the road, not a thousand feet from the Downing farmhouse. He was halfway across the road when the sound of an engine approached and headlights flooded the dark thoroughfare. Jesse froze, knowing he couldn't get away fast enough to escape the grey sedan. Then the car pulled up beside him, and he saw Jed Hawkins at the wheel. A middle-aged man climbed into the back seat and opened the door, helping Jesse to lift Luke inside before climbing in himself. He slammed the door shut, and Jed was off, leaving the cave and the hunters behind.

-------------------------

"Jesse Duke, John Hawkins," the doctor quickly introduced himself before looking at the young man who sat between them. One glance told him enough. "Dad, hospital, on the double."

Luke looked up towards the source of the voice, and Hawkins noticed his gaze. He took Luke's wrist in one hand while he spoke, taking his pulse and counting the pace of his breaths. One was too high, the other too fast.

"Luke, my name is John, and I'm a doctor. Your cousin Bo sent me. I don't want you to try to talk," he instructed firmly when Luke moved his lips to speak. "Bo is fine and safe. We need to get you to a hospital, though. Do you understand? Just nod or shake your head."

Luke nodded weakly.

"How long has he been like this?" John asked Jesse, reaching over into the front seat for a satchel of supplies. He pulled out a stethoscope and a blood pressure cuff, placing one in his lap and the other to his ears.

"The last few hours," Jesse answered, watching the doctor warm the stethoscope bell between his hands before pulling aside the blankets to reach behind Luke's back. "He's been running a high fever all day, and sick since he got up yesterday." The doctor nodded - Bo had explained his earlier symptoms.

"Has he seemed confused at all? Out of it?" John asked, listening intently to the sounds in each part of Luke's lungs as he breathed. He frowned at what he heard.

"Yeah, on and off. I think he broke a rib coughing a little bit ago too. I didn't know you were coming, I had to get him help - I was taking him to the farmhouse across the road."

"Has he been coughing things up?" John was finished with the stethoscope, and picked up the BP cuff as Jesse answered affirmatively. "Luke, I need your arm for a minute. This is going to get tight." Velcroing the cuff into place on his patient's upper arm, he held the stethoscope at the joint and pumped up the cuff. Slowly he released the pressure, watching the needle and numbers on the dial. 100 over 66 - low. He removed the cuff and left it aside, turning back to his patient. "You still with us, Luke?"

The young man nodded, eyes closed. Jesse looked out the window, and saw that they were close, only just outside of the city. "They're probably going to arrest us the moment we come through the front door," Jesse informed the Hawkins gravely.

"No, they're not," John told him, and quickly explained Bo's earlier revelation. Jesse looked shocked, amazed, horrified, and happy all at once.

By the time John finished, they were at the hospital, pulling up to the emergency room entrance. John got out first, jogging inside, and soon appeared again followed by a trio of nurses and another doctor bearing a stretcher. Jesse helped them move his nephew onto the stretcher, and then they quickly moved inside, John with them. Jesse was left alone with Jed and the now-empty car.

Leaving the car running, Jed got out and walked up beside his old friend, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Jesse? Let's go on in. They'll take care of him. You wait inside while I park the car." Jesse snapped out of his shock when Jed gently pulled him towards the admittance doors, and numbly followed his friend inside to the waiting room. With a few words to the nurse at the desk, Jed left him there and went to move the car away from the emergency entrance for the next son or daughter or father or mother who was rushed there by family or ambulance.

When Jed returned a short while later, Jesse was still in the waiting room, staring at a stack of papers in his hands handed to him by the nurse. He looked as exhausted as Bo had, and it was obvious that he wanted nothing more than to be at his nephew's side. Jed asked that request of the nurse, but she shook her head apologetically.

"I'm sorry, sir, but there's no word yet on that patient. If his father could fill out that paperwork…"

Jed didn't listen to the rest. He picked up a pen off the desk and sat down next to Jesse, taking the papers from his hands. He filled out as much as he knew, and asked Jesse the details, copying the same information over onto other pages. He got up and handed the pen and papers to the nurse, and sat back down again.

"Bo was sleeping when we left, otherwise we'd have brought him. Henry, our…our servant, is looking after him."

Jesse nodded and closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. "Thank you, Jed. This means more to me than I can say. If I hadn't left with him when I did…if you hadn't gotten there when you did…they would have had us." Jesse told him about the dogs and the men who arrived just after he'd reached the woods. "You and your son were heaven-sent, Jed. Heaven-sent."

Jed shook his head, astounded at the burdens on his friend's shoulders in the last few days. It was obvious how deeply he loved his nephews.

"Mr. Duke?" Jed looked up to see the desk nurse standing next to them. Jesse looked up as well.

"Yes?" he asked softly.

"I just received an update on your nephew Lucas. He's been taken to the intensive care unit on the third floor. They should have more information for you there." She directed them to the elevators, wished them luck and left.

When Jed and Jesse arrived at the entrance to ICU, they were stopped by another nurse at another desk. Through the glass in the doors, they could see John Hawkins talking with another figure out of view. He glanced at the doors and saw them there, and broke off his conversation, walking out to meet them.

"Dad, Mr. Duke! I'll take them from here, miss," he informed the nurse, though he did not lead them inside, but to a cubbyhole of a waiting room around the corner. When they had all sat down, he said, "They've got him in ICU, and he's resting. He's getting fluids and antibiotics through an IV, and he's…Mr. Duke, he stopped breathing in the ER. They had to insert a chest tube - he's still not breathing on his own." Jesse closed his eyes tightly, a knot of pain in his own chest. Gently, John continued. "It's already helped quite a bit, and his vitals have improved. By all accounts, it's pneumonia. The x-rays showed it filling most of his right lung and part of his left, and we think it's bacterial, which is good, because he should respond well to antibiotics. That's also why it hit him so fast and hard - the shock to his immune system Friday left him vulnerable, and everything since then only weakened him further."

"Can I see him?" Jesse asked.

John exchanged a look with his father before answering. "I can probably convince them to let you see him for a few minutes, but not for long. His vitals have improved, but he's not stable yet. He needs to rest, and you need to rest too."

Jesse started to object, but stopped. The middle-aged doctor was probably right. "All right. A few minutes, then."

The two older men followed John back to the nurse's desk and waited while John went inside to speak with the right people. A few minutes later, he came back out with a note for the vigilant nurse, and motioned Jesse to come in. Jed waited outside.

The intensive care unit was set up with two rows of large doorless rooms down each side. Some of the rooms held several occupied beds, while other smaller rooms just held one patient. All were stocked with an abundance of medical equipment that Jesse could only guess at the function, and all had a great deal of space for the teams of doctors and nurses to occasionally intervene with death. Along the middle of the ward, John stopped at one of the smaller rooms and gestured for Jesse to step inside. Nothing could have prepared the Duke clan patriarch for the sight that met his eyes in the darkened room.

Luke lay amidst the jumble of machinery Jesse had seen in other rooms, attached by tubes and wires to most of it. A curving white tube snaked out of his mouth, taped in place, and his chest rose and fell with the hiss of the pump on the wall behind him. Three bags of IV fluids hung on hooks, dripping through long tubes into his bloodstream through needles at the backs of his hands and the inside of one elbow. John explained that the dozen wires snaking out from under the hospital gown were EKG leads, and gave an image of the activity of his heart. Another wire came from a clip on one finger, which John said read the oxygen content in his blood. Were it not for the equipment, Luke looked like he was sleeping, pale with red-rimmed eyes.

Jesse watched him silently for a space of time, trying to control his own thoughts and feelings. Then he looked to the doctor, and asked him to explain the numbers and readouts on the screens. Jesse wanted to know exactly how Luke was doing.

"Well, this one is the EKG. It's complicated to explain, but basically his heart's functioning normally, just a little fast. Any change in this pattern will tell us if he's in any trouble. This is his heartrate here," John pointed to the number, "110 beats per minute is high. Normally it should be around 80, but this isn't too high for now. This here is his blood oxygen content - this is what we're most concerned with right now, and this is why he's on the chest tube. It's around 70 now, and it should be higher than 90 - it's much lower than it should be. His blood pressure will be taken every ten minutes or so - the last reading was 110/80, which could be a little higher, but isn't bad - it's better than it was in the car. 120/80 is textbook normal. His fever's gone down a bit too - 102 now, from 104 when we first came in. And that's…that's pretty much it. We'll watch how these numbers and readouts change, and keep an eye on him. He's very lightly sedated, as well, to keep him from fighting the chest tube."

Jesse stepped close to the bedside, gently picking up his nephew's hand, careful of the IV line. He leaned over and kissed Luke's hot forehead, stroking his hair. "I'm here for you, Luke. You just rest and get better, let these machines do the work." He received a flicker of an eyelid as his only response.

"I'm sorry, John?" a male voice spoke behind them. Jesse and John Hawkins both turned to see a red-haired man in the doorway.

"I'm sorry, Mike, we were just leaving," John apologized. He'd let Jesse visit for much longer than he should have. Jesse let go of his nephew's hand and kissed his forehead once more, then turned to go.

"Jesse Duke, this is Dr. Mike Walters, the doctor overseeing Luke's case," John introduced. "We went to medical school together."

Jesse shook the man's hand, thanking him for his efforts wholeheartedly.

"Yes sir, Mr. Duke, we'll do all that we can to get your nephew back on his feet," Dr. Walters assured him.

Jesse thanked him again, and Walters showed them both out, back to the waiting room where Jed Hawkins rose to meet them.

"Jed, John, I can't thank you enough for what you've done," Jesse said, sitting down again. Father and son both looked at each other, wishing there were something more they could do.

"I asked the nurse, Jesse, and she said you can sleep in here if you like, or we'll happily pay for a hotel room across the street," Jed offered.

Jesse shook his head. "No, I'll stay right here, thank you, Jed."

"You should try to rest, Jesse. We'll wake you up if…if there's any changes," John promised.

Jesse nodded agreement, though he couldn't imagine sleeping at a time like this. Both Hawkins moved back a little and sat down, giving him space. For a while, he sat leaned forward like that, propping his elbows on his knees, hands clasped together. He prayed, for Luke, for Bo, for Daisy, for a happy ending to all this mess. It wasn't too long, though, before John Hawkins went in search of coffee, and came back to find both his father and Jesse sleeping soundly, if awkwardly, in their chairs. He sat down and sipped the brew, his heart breaking for the kind old fellow, knowing it would be a long day ahead for all of them.

**Friends, I think I'll be throwing in my own prayers for ol' Luke tonight.**

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	9. The Morning After

**Author's Notes:Proud as I might be, please note thatthe last chapter was pretty much the extent of my certifiable medical knowledge, so forgive me if this chapter is less accurate. Please note that I do hold nurses, doctors, and medical practitioners of all kinds in the highest regard, and that certain points in this chapter reflect rather stereotypical impressions I have of hospitals in the 80's - you'll know it when you see it, and it would not happen today by any means. Cheers!**

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Chapter 9: The Morning After

Bright sunlight streamed in through the curtained windows as Bo woke with a groan. Every muscle in his body, sore from his midnight ride, had stiffened and cramped overnight, and his neck had a painful crick from sleeping in the chair. He groaned again as he stood, looking around the room sluggishly. It took about ten seconds for him to coherently reassemble the details of the night before, and about two seconds to be out the study door calling for the Hawkinses apprehensively.

"Mr. Hawkins! Hello?.!" Hadn't they believed him? Had they gone to the police? Bo was about to bolt out the front door when he heard a response from the back of the house.

"Mr. Duke! Back here, if you please!" came an unfamiliar voice.

Tensely, Bo followed the sound along a hallway into a large kitchen, where a sandy-haired older man stood at the stove. He turned around when he heard Bo enter.

"Would you like something to eat, sir?" He turned back to the pans in front of him, poking at the frying eggs and sizzling bacon.

Bo watched him warily from the doorway. "Where is Mr. Hawkins, and…Mr. Hawkins?" he asked, without adding, _and who are you?_

"Mr. Hawkins and Dr. Hawkins left to see to your cousin and uncle quite early this morning. Dr. Hawkins left instructions to feed you and to ask you to stay here until they call, which they haven't. You may call me Henry," he answered the unspoken question. "I work for the Hawkinses. They told me a bit of what's going on. Would you like to clean up first?"

Bo shook his head as he sat down at the kitchen table, with mixed feelings of relief and trepidation. "What time did they leave? Why didn't they come back here?"

Henry turned again and looked at the young man with sympathy. "They left just after you fell asleep, around two. At the time, John wasn't sure if your cousin might need to go to the hospital. Since they haven't returned or called, that's probably where they are."

"But it's…" Bo searched for and found a clock, "…almost eleven! Why wouldn't they call?.!" His voice was edged with worry.

Henry served up a plate of food and placed it in front of his charge. "I don't know, Mr. Duke, but I'm sure they will." He pulled a set of silverware from a drawer and handed it to Bo, who stirred the food around on his plate without eating any. "Would you like something else instead, Mr. Duke?" Henry asked politely.

Bo looked up, red-faced. "No, sir, thank you. I'm just worried, that's all. I'm Bo, by the way. Mr. Duke is my Uncle Jesse."

Before Henry could reply, the phone rang. Both men jumped at the sound. Henry answered it. "Hawkins residence…May I ask who's calling?…Just a moment, Mr. Carter." The older man held his hand over the receiver and quietly told Bo, "It's a Mr. Jack Carter, of the FBI office in Atlanta." When Bo nodded, Henry handed him the phone.

"Mr. Carter, this is Bo Duke," Bo began, a little nervous at the response he might get.

"_Bo! I'm sorry, I only just got your message. It says it's an emergency, what's going on?_" came the young voice at the other end. Jack Carter was a younger agent whom Bo had gotten to know a little bit the previous summer.

"Mr. Carter, do you know about any murder investigations going on in Hazzard?"

"_Well, no, Bo, but if it's not my case I might not know about it. Why?_"

Quickly, Bo explained about the theft and discovery of the General Lee, the involvement of the FBI, and the theories that came from his discussion with the Hawkinses, leaving out the other less relevant details.

"_Did you say Agent Brown? Derek Brown?"_ Carter asked in a hushed voice.

"That's what Cooter told me," Bo confirmed.

"_That's impossible! He's my commanding officer, the one who took over the Leavins case after…after Dan Chalmers was killed in that ambush…He's supposed to be on vacation last week and this week, in Hawaii._"

"Well, we ain't holdin' any luau's around here. Do you think he…?"

"_If it's him. Listen, Bo, I'm gonna have to talk to a few people here and find out more about this. If it is Derek Brown down there, then we'd both best tread carefully. I'll call you back at this same number. Stay put until I get ahold of you._"

Bo frowned at his words, the second time he'd heard that sentence this morning, but agreed, and hung up the phone. He walked back over to the table and sat down again, with Henry looking on curiously.

"Did Agent Carter have any information to offer?"

Bo shook his head glumly. "No, he's gonna call back. Said to stay here until he calls."

Henry smiled slightly at the twice-repeated order, and prodded Bo's plate back in front of him. "Well then, until he calls, eat up, so you'll be ready and waiting."

Bo smiled himself at the older man's gentle insistence, and picked up his fork, forgetting his worries for a moment in favor of his growling stomach.

----------------

Like his youngest nephew, Jesse Duke slept until nearly eleven a.m., but no sunlight shone through any windows to wake him. The humming fluorescent lighting looked exactly the same as when he'd closed his eyes, though several more worried faces filled some of the waiting room chairs – families of other patients, he supposed. Jesse looked up at John Hawkins, who had shaken his shoulder to wake him.

"What's going on?" he asked, hoping it was good news instead of bad.

The doctor shook his head. "Not much change. He's a little stronger, his O2 sats are up…"

Jesse smiled, pleased that Luke had gotten better while he slept and not worse.

"…But that's not why I woke you. Bo is waiting for a phone call from us, and I thought you would want to be the one to make it."

Jesse nodded, standing up from the chair. Knowing that Bo was safe, he'd nearly forgotten his nephew would still be waiting. He fished into his pockets for change for the payphone, only to realize that the quarter he'd left the Downings was his last. Jed, a few chairs down, interpreted his sudden frown and pulled a handful of change out of his own pocket. He placed it in Jesse's hand, while John found another white card with the home phone number on it.

Jesse thanked them both, and went down the hall to the row of payphones. He frowned when his first try came up busy, and his second. He returned the change to his pocket and went back to where the Hawkinses waited.

"The line was busy. I'll have to try back in a bit," Jesse explained.

"We can go see Luke while you're waiting," John offered. "The rule in ICU is five minutes' visiting every hour." Jesse readily agreed, and after signing in with the nurse – a different one this time – John accompanied him in, while Jed again waited outside.

As promising as John's report had been, Luke lookedeven better to Jesse's eyes. The pale, exhausted look was gone, and though he didn't wake, his hand curled firmly around Jesse's when he held it. From what Jesse remembered of John's explanation, the numbers on the machine readouts looked close to normal, with that one number – the percent oxygen saturation of his blood – reading 86. John explained that they'd taken another set of x-rays not long ago, which showed the infection in his lungs starting to clear back some, a good sign that the antibiotics were working.

"Mike went home at eight, but he'll be back at six o'clock this evening. He said if Luke continues to improve, they'll take him off the chest tube tonight."

Jesse nodded understanding, but was quiet for the few more minutes he had to visit his nephew. Then John said it was time to go, and Jesse had to leave Luke alone again.

Back outside the ICU ward, Jesse made his way down the hall to try calling his nephew again. This time, all three payphones were occupied, and he had to wait rather impatiently for someone to finish their conversation. The snatches he accidentally overheard were depressing – one woman's son was in a car accident, and she was telling a brother that he might not live – one older man's wife was shot by a mugger, and he was telling a daughter she'd been paralyzed – one young man was desperately trying to stay calm as he told his best friend's mother that her son had OD'd on prescription painkillers, and was now comatose. The older man was the first to finish, and as Jesse passed they exchanged nods of empathetic greeting. Then Jesse was rolling the coins into the slot, punching in the numbers, and listening to the ring, once, twice.

"_Hawkins residence_."

"Hello, could I talk to Bo Duke, please."

"_May I ask who's calling?_"

"This is his uncle Jesse."

"_One moment, Mr. Duke_." Jesse heard rustling as the phone was snatched out of Henry's hands. "_Uncle Jesse?.! What's going on? Is Luke alright?_" Bo sounded worried and anxious, with good cause.

"Easy now, Bo. Jed and John Hawkins picked us up this morning. We're at Tricounty General. Are you alright?"

"_I'm fine, Uncle Jesse, what about Luke?_"

"Luke's…the doctors say he's got pneumonia, and they're taking care of him."

Silence. Then, "_How bad is it?_"

"He's gonna be in here for a couple of days, I think."

"_Can I talk to him?_"

"He's sleeping, just now. I'm on a payphone down the hall."

Again, Bo paused before speaking. Uncle Jesse wasn't telling him all of it, he was sure. "I'm coming out there, Uncle Jesse."

"_Now Bo, you be careful! Half the county's on the lookout for you by now, and if Sheriff Little catches you in Chickasaw, he'll lock you up for breaking probation_."

"I'll be careful, Uncle Jesse. I'll see you in a little while." Bo hung up the phone and looked to Henry, who had gathered his empty plate and was stacking the dishes in the sink. "Henry, is there a car I could borrow?"

**Y'know, I sure hope there is a car for Bo to borrow, 'cause I got a feeling he'd run all the way to Tricounty General if he had to.**

-----------------

A little over an hour later, Bo reached the hospital in Jed Hawkin's pickup truck and parked it in the garage. Had anyone seen him on the road, he was hardly recognizable in his gray wool coat and a large floppy-brimmed hat that covered his mussed blond hair. He'd made his way along the roads that skirted the edges of Hazzard and Chickasaw county, turning onto the main roads only a few miles from the hospital. Leaving the coat and hat in the truck, Bo made for the main entrance to the hospital at a trot. His first shock came when he asked for his cousin's room at the front desk, and was informed that Luke was in intensive care on the third floor. His second shock came at the nurse's desk outside the ward. Jesse and the Hawkinses were nowhere to be found, so he asked the nurse if he could see his cousin.

"I'm sorry, young man, but only immediate family is allowed. His father is in with him now. You'll have to go sit down," she informed him brusquely, pointed towards the waiting room.

"But…" Bo began to protest, but stopped when he looked over her shoulder and saw the visiting policy posted on a brown plastic sign: _'Due to sensitive patient conditions, visiting is limited to close family only, for no more than 10 minutes per hour'_. The nurse continued to frown at him sternly.

Nearly floored, he turned and drifted into the waiting room, slumping into the nearest chair. Intensive care? No wonder Uncle Jesse didn't want to tell him. How bad was it really? Luke must have lived through the night – would he make it through the day? Was Uncle Jesse in there watching his last breaths? _Close family only_. Bo felt sick to his stomach, and tears welled in his eyes. _Close family_. Bo had no 'close family' – his cousins and his uncle were his only living relatives. Luke was as good as a brother to him, or closer, after all they'd been through together. Daisy was his smart older sister, and Uncle Jesse took the place of the father Bo had never known. There wasn't a family in Hazzard that was closer than the Dukes. Even the nurses here thought Uncle Jesse was Luke's father. _Close family only_. His tears spilled over as he hugged his knees to his chest, unawares of the other visitors watching him with sympathy.

Then Uncle Jesse was there, sitting next to him and pulling him close while the Hawkinses looked on.

"They told me…they told me I can't go see him…he's in there dying and I can't see him…"

Jesse immediately realized his mistake in not telling Bo the whole of Luke's condition, and now his nephew had jumped to the wrong conclusion. "Shhh, alright, alright," Jesse hushed him, "Luke isn't dying, he's gonna be fine."

Bo looked up with a sniff, wiping his eyes with one hand. "He isn't?" he asked doubtfully. "Why's he in intensive care, then?"

"He was having a hard time breathing when we brought him in, and they've got him on a machine to breathe for him. Now," Jesse added at Bo's fearful expression, "He's doing a lot better since this morning, and once Dr. Walters gets back this evening they're probably going to take him off it. He's getting better," he affirmed, looking Bo in the eye. Then he looked past his nephew at John Hawkins, who was speaking quickly and quietly to the nurse at the desk. They couldn't hear what he was saying, but when he finished he waved the both of them over. Bo and Jesse both got up and quickly joined him.

"Bo, you can go in for a couple of minutes," the doctor informed him, with a stern sideways look at the nurse. Bo nodded, not about to argue. He noted that when he and Jesse filed past, the nurse studiously ignored them, with an expression that reminded Bo of a housecat trying to act like her whiskers hadn't just been tweaked.

Bo's third shock of the day came from finally seeing his cousin lying in that hospital bed with all manner of wires and tubes attached to him. This shock wasn't quite so bad, though, as Uncle Jesse's strong arms were around his shoulders, reassuring him. It also didn't quite seem real to him, for Luke to be so weak, for a machine to be breathing for him. Bo walked up to the bedside, looking his cousin over, and picked up his hand, careful of the IV line. Luke's hand was warm and reassuring, and Bo nearly jumped out of his skin when Luke's fingers curled tightly around his. Bo turned a worried and questioning look on Jesse, who only smiled and explained how Luke had been sedated so he wouldn't fight the tube, but he _was_ getting stronger. Bo smiled himself, finally convinced that his cousin really wasn't dying. He let go of his hand and touched Luke's shoulder.

"Don't you worry, Luke, you're gonna be just fine. I'll take care of the rest," Bo promised him.

--------------

It wasn't until Jesse, Bo, and the Hawkinses returned to the waiting room that Jesse asked softly, "Have you heard anything from Cooter or Daisy?"

Bo shook his head. "I'd only just gotten up when Jack Carter called, and just finished breakfast when you called, Uncle Jesse." He told his uncle about the short conversation with the FBI agent and his suspicion of Agent Brown. "…and then I came straight here," he finished.

Jesse fished his pockets for the last of the change Jed had given him, and handed it to Bo. "Why don't you give Cooter a call and see if he had any luck," he suggested, gesturing towards the now-empty payphones.

Bo tried the garage first, then the Davenport farmhouse, but got no answer on either try. He hung up the receiver and rejoined his uncle.

"No answer," he explained, unsure of whether that was good, bad, or indifferent.

Jesse nodded, sipping at a cup of coffee Jed had brought him. "We ought to figure on what to do next, then," he considered.

Bo frowned. He didn't want to leave Luke, but he couldn't abandon Daisy either, and someone had to clean this mess up. Hadn't he already had this argument with himself? "Uncle Jesse, you stay here with Luke, and call Henry at the Hawkins' if anything happens. I'll handle things," he declared firmly.

Jesse regarded his youngest nephew for a moment, who stood a little taller than he had a moment ago. A year or two ago Jesse might have doubted that Bo could untangle this situation by himself, but now there was no doubting the set in his jaw and the look in his eye. Young man indeed, but a man nonetheless. He reminded Jesse continuously of his father, Jesse's younger brother, and the Duke patriarch smiled at the bittersweet memory. "Alright, then, Bo. Be careful."

Bo smiled, pleased that his uncle had neither tried to dissuade him nor lectured him on how to proceed, and said his goodbyes, already headed down the hall.

**Well, now. We've seen ol' Bo outfox those bloodhounds, but trapping a bear is a whole different story. Y'all stick around, now, this is gonna get _interesting_.**

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	10. Oh How Plans Change

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Chapter 10: Oh, How Plans Change!

Before long Bo was back in the pickup truck and headed back down the same back roads, avoiding suspicious eyes in Hazzard and Chickasaw alike. The first thing he needed to do was return the pickup truck and retrieve Black Morgan from the Hawkins' place. He ached at the thought of another long ride, but the horse had offroad capabilities that no vehicle could match, and if he couldn't have the General's speed, he'd take the ornery gelding's stealth and versatility.

It was late afternoon by the time he drove up to the Hawkins manor, parking the truck in the garage out back and entering through the kitchen door. Henry was waiting for him there with a soda and sandwich ready, and took Bo's hat and coat.

"A man could get used to this service, Henry," Bo said appreciatively as the manservant ushered him into a chair. He was in a fairly good mood, having thought up a plan on the drive that he was pretty certain would work.

"I was told to take care of you, sir," Henry shrugged, by way of explanation. "Mr. Carter called while you were out, and left this number to call him back." He handed Bo a scrap of paper.

Bo finished the bite he was chewing and took a swig of soda before standing and heading for the phone on the wall. He dialed the number and waited impatiently as the phone rang once, twice, thrice, before it was picked up and a female voice answered.

"_Atlanta Public Library, how may I help you?_"

"Ah, hi, maybe I have the wrong number…I'm looking for Jack Carter?"

"_Oh, yes, is this Mr. Duke?_"

"Yeah…"

"_Just a moment, sir._" Bo heard the familiar clicking sound of lines being transferred, and then Jack's voice. "_Bo! Is that you?_"

"Yes, Mr. Carter. Are you at the library?.!"

"_Yes, my sister works here, I don't have time to explain. Listen – you were right. Brown isn't in Hawaii, he's in Hazzard, I traced his credit card charges. I also talked to a few guys, men I trust – we don't think Leavins and his gang were the end of the conspiracy. They've got to have guys on the inside, guys like Brown. We don't know how deep this goes – but we're gonna get to the bottom of this, and we're gonna help you. Where is the rest of your family right now?_"

Bo explained that Jesse and Luke were at the hospital, and Daisy was still unaccounted for. "Cooter was gonna try to spring her out of jail, but I haven't been able to get ahold of him."

"_We need to know for sure before we can make a move. I can organize the men I trust to take on Brown and whoever he's got with him, but we don't want to put your cousin or your friend in danger._"

"I think we can work around it. You say you've got men? Listen, this is what I was thinking…" Bo outlined the plan he'd thought of on the way back from the hospital. Carter and Henry both listened to him intently. He finished, saying, "I'll leave the details to you. He's gonna suspect something, but I think I can talk him into it."

"_It's a good plan. Risky, though._"

"I know. Can you do it?"

"_We'll be there._"

"Alright. I'm gonna call Cooter, then. Thank you, Mr. Carter."

"_Thank _you_, Bo. Goodbye._"

Bo hung up and quickly dialed Cooter's garage number. The phone rang and rang, and he was about to give up when the other end picked up, but no one spoke.

"Cooter? Cooter, is that you?" Bo spoke into the line.

"_Is this Mr. Bo Duke?_" a decidedly sinister male voice asked.

"Yes." A wash of cold dread spread through Bo.

"_Mr. Duke, you've shown quite a talent for evading the law. I'd suggest you make things easier on yourself, and your pretty little cousin, and turn yourself in._"

"Well I don't have plans to do that just yet, Agent Brown," Bo guessed. It sounded like they still had Daisy, and they were still keeping up the FBI charade.

"_Ah, so you've been talking to your friend the mechanic! Such a naughty boy – attempted jailbreak will get him twenty years in a federal prison, I believe. If he makes it there – things have been known to happen between arrest and trial, especially during escape attempts._"

Bo's heart sank. They had Daisy and Cooter both, then. "You don't want them, Brown, they didn't do anything."

"_No? They're aiding and abetting a couple of felons, impeding a federal investigation!…_" As he spoke, Bo wondered why he was going on so long, and realized he was probably trying to trace the call. Bo slammed the phone down and started towards the door.

"We've got to get out of here. If they traced that, they'll be here in no time," he told Henry, who was already on his feet. "I'm sorry to put you in the middle of this. Take the truck and meet the Hawkinses at the hospital – you should be safe there." Bo's mind raced as he pulled on the wool coat again. Henry followed him out the door and to the stables, fastening his own heavy coat.

"No sir, young man, I've got orders," he refused, heading for another stall as Bo opened the gate to Black Morgan's. He lifted tack and padding off one wall even as Bo found his, and brought a tall dapple grey mare out to saddle.

"Henry, I don't think your orders go that far," Bo argued. He checked the gelding over and lifted the padding and saddle into place.

"Then let's say I don't care to face your uncle if he finds out I turned tail and ran while you rode to the rescue. I'm coming with you, son, like it or not."

Bo grinned. The man might have a Yankee accent, but he was stubborn as a Southern mule. "Guess I'll be glad to have you along, then. You know the land around here?"

"Not at all."

"Makes two of us, then."

Both finished with their mounts at the same time. Bo was securing his bow, arrows, dynamite, and the sack with his evidence when they heard sirens wailing in the distance. He looked up towards the sound.

"It's too soon to be anyone from Hazzard," Henry said.

"They probably called Sheriff Little." Bo finished the knot and pulled himself into the saddle. Morgan gave a snort and a hopping sideways step before Bo slapped the reins against his neck in warning, and he stopped, ears laid flat in annoyance.

"Who's Sheriff Little?"

"A man with no love lost for us Dukes, and no one we want to wait around for. Come on!" Bo kicked the gelding to a trot and Henry followed him out the barn door on the mare. The sirens were closer now, and they urged their horses to a full gallop into the rolling fields beyond the manor.

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It was well after dark by the time Bo and Henry reached territory Bo recognized. Despite the speed of their escape, they'd soon found it slow going moving through the overgrown fields and forest, and the waning sunlight only impeding their progress as they lost their direction. At least they had no pursuit, by men or dogs.

Once back in Hazzard, Bo led them by the sliver of moonlight towards town, keeping to the trees and shadows. His breath steamed a grey vapor in the crisp, cold night air, and both men held their jackets close. To improve matters, the crick in Bo's neck from earlier in the day had turned into a screeching headache, and he rubbed one temple as he rode and thought. Just on the outskirts of town, hidden in a clump of trees, Bo reined in the gelding and Henry stopped beside him.

"What's the plan now, then?" Henry asked in a whisper, peering through the trees at the streetlights and buildings beyond.

"I gotta get Daisy and Cooter out of there. There's no telling what Brown will do to them, and they need to be safe when Carter gets here." Bo was searching the scene beyond the trees himself, spying for lookouts and possible routes to the jailhouse. Then he dismounted and pulled a few handkerchiefs from his pockets, kneeling to tie the cloths around Black Morgan's ironshod hooves. "I'll go in the back way and check things out," he said once the horse's shoes were muffled, "And I'll take Morgan in case I need a quick escape. Can you cover us with these?" Bo asked, with one hand indicating the bow and arrows.

Henry nodded, and Bo unstrapped the whole bundle from behind the saddle and handed it to him, dynamite, evidence and all. On foot, they moved in closer to the road. Bo pointed out the key buildings in the square.

"That's Cooter's garage there, and that's the sheriff's department just down there. There's a barred window to the jail cells just behind those bushes there in front. I'll check and see if Daisy and Cooter are down there first, and see how many men they've got around. It's late, so some of them might have turned in for the night, wherever they're staying."

"How are you gonna bust them out?" Henry asked as they made their way back to the horses.

Bo took up Morgan's reins and swung into the saddle. "I haven't gotten that far yet. I'll think of something," he assured the older man with a confidence he didn't feel.

Without another word he urged the horse through the trees and along the shadows, cringing at the slight noise of the horse's muffled hooves on the pavement as he quickly crossed the road. Within the trees, Henry kept pace with his progress, bow in hand. The older man stopped his horse when Bo reached the alley, dismounted, and disappeared from sight. While he waited, Henry began fixing dynamite to a few of the arrows, just in case.

Bo crept around the building, slipping behind the bushes to avoid the streetlight. So far, so good. It was quite dark in the shadows, and there was very little activity in the town – it must have been eight, nine o'clock at night by now, and most shops were closed. Though a half-dozen unfamiliar – therefore probably enemy – men were straggled between Cooter's garage and the front of the sheriff's department, Bo saw little of the 'crawling with feds' that Cooter had described. Nevertheless, he lay flat and low in the shadows of the bushes when he peered down into the jail cells through the barred window.

Daisy and Cooter were there alright, and no agents stood in the space beyond the cells, but Bo still watched for a moment before calling down to his cousin. Daisy knelt against the bars separating the two cells, talking quietly to Cooter, who lay stretched out on the concrete floor. Daisy blocked his head and shoulders from view, but Bo could see a callused fist clenched with white knuckles, and his friend's cap lay on the floor behind him.

"Daisy!" Bo called down in the loudest whisper he dared. She looked up immediately and saw her younger cousin through the bars, and turned back to Cooter for a moment before getting to her feet and walking over to the window.

"Bo! What are you doing? Get out of here!" she whispered harshly, visibly upset.

Bo had a good look at Cooter now, and saw why Daisy was upset. The mechanic looked like he'd been used as a human punching bag. He had two black eyes – one swollen shut – and an assortment of cuts and bruises on his face and Bo could only guess where else. Blood tinged his lips, and he looked like he was in a world of hurt.

"Is Cooter alright?"

Daisy looked back at their friend. "His jaw is broken. He wouldn't tell them where you were hiding, and when we lied to them…" she trailed off. "Bo, you've got to get out of here! I don't know what's going on, but these men aren't FBI agents, whatever they say. I think _they_ killed those girls, and they'll kill you too!"

"Don't you worry, Daisy, I'm gonna get you and Cooter out of there. I…" Bo stopped as footsteps echoed down the stairs inside. Daisy ducked down away from the window, but not fast enough – Brown saw her movement, looked out the empty window, and quickly made the connection.

"They're outside!" he roared, running back up the stairs and rousing the handful of men sitting about the office. "Get the dogs! Get them!"

Bo couldn't move fast enough. He scrambled back through the bushes to the alley where Morgan waited, and leaped into the saddle, kicking the gelding to a gallop with a "Hyah!" It was just moments before three bloodhounds and a dozen armed men ran for the back of the building in hot pursuit, barking and shouting behind him.

The dogs were close on Morgan's heels and Bo thought he could make it to the trees just fast enough, when the horse skidded to a halt that nearly threw him from the saddle. The ornery gelding whirled on the dogs with an angry whinney, tearing the reins from Bo's hands as Morgan reared back and slammed his front hooves down towards the baying hounds. Black Morgan_ hated_ dogs. It was all Bo could do to cling to the saddle as the gelding lashed out at the hounds with front and rear hooves, sending one dog yelping as an iron shoe struck his ribs, biting at a second dog that tried to come in from the side. The pursuing men kept their distance from the wild horse, watching the show with cruel amusement.

The spectacle was interrupted by a slight whistling sound, lost in the clamor of barking and equine snorts, followed by a booming explosion in the street that scattered the men and sent a flash of fire into the air. Morgan recovered faster than the men, and lunged again at the cowering dogs as another dynamite arrow landed in the street, exploding closer to the horse than Henry had intended. Bo's ears rang, and the spots from the blinding flash were still clearing from his eyes when he realized he was sailing through the air. Morgan had bucked him clean off and bolted for the trees. The air whooshed out of Bo's lungs as he landed with a hard thud, and a moment later he felt the sharp pain in his shoulder. He lay still on the ground, desperately trying to suck air back into his lungs, when he felt warm dog breath on his face. He looked up, still gasping for breath, to see two bloodhounds and a man with a gun standing over him.

At least his headache hadn't gotten worse.

**Y'know, I don't reckon anyone's ever told Bo that a rescue mission usually gets someone out of trouble, instead of getting someone deeper in it.**

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	11. Betrayal

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Chapter 11: Betrayal

Bo knew he was caught, but that didn't stop him from trying anyhow. He'd hardly raised himself on his good right arm, though, when one of the men hupped to his dogs, and both bloodhounds snarled at Bo with menacing growls. He froze – their teeth were a bit too close to his throat for comfort. Then he was surrounded by men on all sides, and he knew he was really done for.

"You three, get him inside and lock him up. The rest of you, get after the other two – they were out there, I'm sure of it," the man standing over Bo ordered. _Brown_, Bo thought. He hoped Henry had the sense to be long gone by now.

The dogs were pulled back, and two men roughly hauled him to his feet. Bo stifled a cry of pain as one shoved him forward, pushing on his left shoulder. He looked and saw a large lump under his skin just below his collarbone, and his whole arm hung uselessly at an awkward angle. His three gun-carrying guards marched him off the road, into the empty sheriff's department, and down the stairs.

"Oh Bo!" Daisy cried out when she saw him. She had heard the explosions outside, and hoped he'd gotten away. She could see the pain and failure in his face.

He was roughly shoved into the cell with Cooter, and the door was locked behind him. "Three down, two to go," one of the men remarked with a chuckle to his buddies as they walked up the stairs. When they were gone, Bo sank down against the wall behind Cooter, who sat up and leaned against the bars dividing the cells. The mechanic couldn't speak without pain, but he looked on with a bruised brow furrowed with concern.

"Are you hurt? What happened?" Daisy asked, joining him at the wall. Bo hissed as she touched his shoulder through the bars.

"The danged horse threw me," Bo explained crossly, though he was irritated with himself and the horse, not Daisy. He tried to feel for broken bone in his arm, but only caused more pain.

Daisy and Cooter helped him ease out of his coat and long-sleeved shirt, but he cried out when they tried to work his t-shirt off. Instead, Daisy lifted his sleeve and collar to inspect the injury, gently feeling around the joint.

"I think it's just dislocated," she finally declared. That odd lump was the rounded end of his upper arm bone. "Scoot over a little closer, I can fix it."

"What? No!" He shied away from her reach.

Daisy sighed. "Bo, it's not gonna stop hurting unless we get it back in place. I helped Uncle Jesse set Luke's shoulder when he fell out of the hayloft, remember? It's easy."

"But that was nine years ago!"

Cooter added his two cents with a light slap to his friend's other arm and an exasperated look.

Finally Bo gave in. He trusted his cousin, after all, and it couldn't hurt much worse, could it? Following her instructions, he leaned his back against the bars and let Cooter take hold of his arm. He could feel the ugly grinding sensation of bone against collarbone as Daisy lifted his upper arm out straight, level with his shoulder line, and let his forearm and hand hang down. Slowly, she rotated his forearm upwards, up and up until his hand pointed straight up and a little bit further back. With an easy motion the bone slid back into place, with a crunch and a pop. Daisy gently let his arm down, and Bo sagged with relief, blood flow and sensation returning to his arm.

"Thanks, Daisy," he sighed as he felt around the sore joint with his good hand – back to normal.

"No problem, cuz," Daisy replied, patting his back through the bars. "Anything else hurt?"

"No, just my pride," Bo admitted sullenly, scooting back to the more comfortable wall.

Cooter started to join him, but then thought better of it, and laid down on the cot against the other wall – his jaw hurt somethin' fierce, and sitting upright was making him dizzy. He laid one arm across his forehead and one good eye with a groan.

"You okay there, Cooter?" Bo asked. His friend waved him off with his other hand. Bo turned back to Daisy, who asked:

"What's happened out there? How's…" she lowered her voice to a hushed whisper, "How's Luke? Where's Uncle Jesse? They told us they trailed you to the caves, but you were gone by the time they got there. Are Luke an' Jesse safe? Were they with you just now?"

Bo held up a hand to slow her questions, and spoke in the same hushed tone. "Daisy, we're gonna be in here all night at least, we've got plenty of time to talk. Yes, Uncle Jesse and Luke are alright – at least, as alright as they're gonna be for now. Cooter already told you what I told him, right?" Daisy nodded. "That was most of it. After I left Jackson's Hollow…"

Quietly, Bo told Daisy every detail, and paused to let her ask questions every so often. At first Cooter strained to listen from just a few feet away, but eventually he gave up – Bo would fill him in on the important stuff – and he drifted off to sleep, snoring none too softly. Bo stopped long enough to cover his friend with one of the two coarse wool blankets left to the prisoners – Brown's men hadn't bothered to return with food or bedding for Bo. Daisy helped him pull his long-sleeved shirt back on, but he insisted that she take both his coat and the second blanket – she was still wearing her rather skimpy waitressing outfit, and the cells were cold, with the chill air that came in through the window. Then, back at the wall and close to the dividing bars, Bo finished his side of the story, leaving out only the details of the plan he'd discussed with Carter.

"Poor Luke…Uncle Jesse was sure he'll be alright?" Daisy asked. Bo nodded confirmation, and she was satisfied, though still worried – if Uncle Jesse was sure, she'd trust it. "So…I don't suppose getting captured was part of that plan?"

Bo shook his head. "No, I can't say that it was. Now, what's happened here? What have you seen of these fellas? Maybe we can figure something out…"

Then it was Daisy's turn, though she didn't have much to tell – her arrest, Cooter's visit and attempt to break her out, Brown's interrogation, and his retribution against Cooter. They hadn't touched Daisy, whether because they thought she was too fragile, or they remembered her arrest too well, and Bo was glad of that at least.

"…That's pretty much it, until you showed up," Daisy finished. "How's that shoulder now?" They'd easily been talking and questioning each other for two hours. It had been late to begin with, and it was getting even later.

"It's alright, just sore," he said, prodding the tender joint and muscle. "I think I'll live, Doc."

Daisy smiled at her cousin's attempt at humor. "Well, we should probably get some sleep. Are you sure you'll be warm enough?" She stood, offering him the coat. He waved it off.

"I'm fine. Goodnight, Daisy."

"Goodnight, Bo." Daisy settled herself onto her cot, wrapped in Bo's coat and covered by the blanket. She lay awake for a long time, staring at the ceiling and thinking on the latest turn of events. Eventually she too drifted off to sleep.

Bo, on the other hand, was wide awake. He sat in the same spot, one leg stretched out, his right arm propped lazily on his knee. He'd put himself on guard duty, watching over his cousin and his friend, and listening to every sound and footstep that met his ears. Bo was hoping to hear some news of Henry, but all he heard was the voices and movements of the men left behind on guard, bored and gambling at some game upstairs. Eventually the losers in the game quit playing, and it was quiet again but for Cooter's snores and Daisy's soft breathing.

Some time later, Bo had taken to pacing the small cell to stay awake and to keep himself warm. He was on his 46th round of the cell when he heard the front door open upstairs, and the click of canine toenails in the hardwood floor, followed by heavy footsteps.

"Any luck?" one voice asked, as the toenails and footsteps led across the floor to the upstairs holding cell. One dog barked 'find' when he picked up Bo's scent.

"Shuttup, Spade!" a second voice snarled. "No, we lost 'em. They're on horseback now. I doubt we'll find them."

"Don't let Brown hear you say that," another voice warned.

"Don't worry," the first man said confidently, "In the morning, we'll make that blond one sing. We'll get the other two, and when they're all fish food, we'll get paid, just like always."

"Well sweet dreams until then," the dog handler sneered. With a few more idle comments, the returning hunters dispersed, and the department was quiet again.

Bo had heard all he needed to hear. He curled back up in his corner between the wall and the bars, holding his knees close for warmth, and was soon sound asleep. Morning would come soon enough.

**Somehow, Bo doesn't look very worried for a man who's just heard what he's heard. Y'all think that's just his charming looks, or maybe something more?**

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Morning did come all too soon. Bo, Daisy, and Cooter were all woken by the sound of footsteps coming down the stairs. Bo and Daisy looked on apprehensively, while Cooter just moaned where he lay. His jaw and cheek his swollen badly overnight, and he was just miserable. Bo got to his feet, stiff and sore himself – especially that shoulder – and stood at the cell door, between the approaching footsteps and his friend. To Bo's surprise, it was Enos coming down the steps – flanked by a handful of Brown's men – carrying a tray of breakfast for three.

"Now Bo, you gotta promise not to jump out at me when I open the door," Enos told him, and waited until Bo promised before unclipping his keys from his belt.

"Enos, man, am I glad to see you!" Bo exclaimed, looking nervously at the men behind the deputy. "We need your help! I swear, Enos, it wasn't us – I don't know who these guys are, but…but… look at what they did to Cooter!" Bo rambled on desperately as Enos handed him two of the plates, trying very hard not to look Bo in the eye. He saw Enos steal a glance over at the mechanic while he closed the door to Bo's cell and opened Daisy's. "Enos, they broke his jaw!"

"Bo, I'm sorry," Enos said softly. "But this is the FBI, and y'all are wanted for _murder_. I cain't do anything." Red-faced, he handed Daisy her plate and shut her cell door, locking it again.

"Would you at least go get Rosco?" Bo pleaded. If there was even a slight chance, he had to ask.

Enos sighed. "Alright, Bo. I'll be right back."

True to his word, Enos was back down the stairs in not ten minutes, followed by a very annoyed Sheriff Rosco P. Coltrane.

"So they finally caught you, huh, Bo Duke!" Rosco smirked, delighted. "You want to plead guilty now and save the judge some work?"

"Rosco, I ain't guilty and you know it," Bo retorted. "An' I don't know who these guys are you're working with, but they aren't FBI!"

"Oh they're not, huh? Khew khew! You got any proof?"

"Well look at Cooter! They beat him up last night after you left, busted his jaw! What kind of FBI agents would do that?"

Rosco stepped closer to the cell and looked in on the mechanic, who looked back through his one good eye and waved. For a moment, Bo thought the Hazzard sheriff was actually taking him seriously. Then he spoke, looking at Bo in disbelief. "Bo, I do _not_ believe it! You lyin' murderin' dog of a Duke! You beat up your own best friend! First those girls, and now Cooter…oh you'll be locked up, you'll be locked up for the rest of your natural life, you can bet on it buster…"

Bo threw his hands in the air and sighed an exasperated sigh, interrupting the sheriff as he rambled on. "Rosco, would you at least get him to a doctor?"

"Don't you tell me what to do, Bo Duke! I'll have you know that I'm…I'm…"

"Required by law to provide medical help to injured prisoners," Daisy finished for him. That shut Rosco up, and before he could come up with a response, one of the men behind him stepped forward.

"Sheriff Coltrane, we'll see to it that Mr. Davenport is taken care of. I believe Agent Brown is waiting for you upstairs, to go over a map of the terrain where we lost the trail last night."

"See there, Bo?" Rosco gestured towards the man who'd spoken. "These _FBI agents_ are gonna take care of him while I, while _I_ go help them track down that murderin' cousin and uncle of yours! Enos! Get upstairs, you dipstick, and make yourself useful! Go take Flash on a walk or somethin'!" he ordered before Bo could get in another word. Then sheriff and deputy filed up the stairs, though Enos gave Bo a long, pained look before he left. The speaker among Brown's men glared at Bo before they too filed upstairs.

Left alone again, Bo sat down on the floor next to Cooter. "Sorry, buddy. I tried." Cooter patted his shoulder with forgiveness. "Think you can eat anything?" His friend started to shake his head, but whimpered at the pain and waved his hand instead. Bo and Daisy traded worried looks, but there was nothing to say. Neither of them touched their plates, having no appetite after that conversation.

Bo wondered what Uncle Jesse was doing just then, whether the doctors had taken Luke off that machine, and whether he was doing better and was awake this morning. Thinking about Luke, Bo hardly noticed his own aches, or the headache lingering in the back of his skull that sleep hadn't eliminated. He glanced over at Daisy, and saw she was just as preoccupied with her thoughts. With nothing to do but wait, Bo made himself comfortable against the wall against and sighed. He couldn't believe this was all Daisy'd had to do for the last three days. Bo preferred being chased by the bloodhounds.

Things began to get interesting about an hour later, after Rosco and Enos had left – sent on a wild goose chase down the southern end of the county. No sooner had they driven off than Agent Derek Brown appeared in the stairwell with his thugs, a menacing smile on his features.

"Morning, Mr. Duke. I trust you slept well?" he asked mockingly.

"What do you want, Brown?" Daisy asked.

"Oh, just to have a little chat with your cousin Bo here."

One of the men unlocked the cell, and again Bo boldly stepped forward, placing himself between them and Cooter. They only wanted him, though. Two men grabbed hold of his arms in iron grips, pulling him out and shutting the cell door behind him. While they held him, another man tied his hands behind his back with rough twine. Finished, Bo was shoved into a waiting chair, and Brown stepped forward.

"Where are Lukas and Jesse Duke hiding?"

Bo spit at the 'agent's feet. Brown fetched him a blow to the head that would have knocked him out of the chair, had rough hands not been there to shove him back into place.

"Perhaps I should be more polite. Where are Lukas and Jesse Duke hiding, _please_?"

After about five minutes, Bo decided he very much didn't like Brown's method of interrogation. After about twenty-five minutes, he was having difficulty hearing the question over the ringing in his ears and the screaming headache in his skull. Between the blood dripping into his eyes and the blood running from his broken nose, he was having a bit of trouble seeing the interrogator as well. It took a few moments for Bo to realize that the pounding had stopped. Brown stepped back, scrutinizing his victim, and motioned to the men holding Bo in place. They let go, and he promptly fell over. Brown waited until he pulled himself up on his hands and knees, and kicked him viciously in the ribs, and he fell back to the floor. Daisy cried his name for the third or fourth time.

"You redneck whelp!" Brown growled. "You'll tell me if I have to take you apart piece by piece!" He glanced at Daisy, his lip curled in a snarl. She was watching helplessly with her hands curled around the cell bars. "Bring the girl out! Maybe you'll tell me if I take _her_ apart piece by piece!"

"No!" Bo cried painfully, on his knees again, as two of the men opened her cell door and grabbed her arms. "Leave Daisy alone!"

"Or else _what_?" Brown spat.

Bo's voice cracked in a miserable sob. "I'll tell you anything you want! Just don't…don't hurt her."

"Bo! NO!" Daisy cried, struggling against her captors. "They'll kill us anyways!"

Bo shook his head, wavering dizzily. Salty tears stung the cuts on his cheeks. "Then I'd rather see you die quickly, Daisy, instead of being tortured by these monsters."

Daisy was at a loss for words, staring at her younger cousin. She'd never seen him look so broken, so defeated before.

Brown smiled triumphantly. Family could be such a weak spot, easy to target, easy to kill. "Well, boy? I'm waiting."

Bo looked up at his cruel face, and tried wiping his eyes on his sleeve. He couldn't say it. He couldn't say it. "They're…they're on the move," his voice broke, and Brown frowned. Bo saw the frown, and quickly added, "But I can call them…call them and leave a message, or see if they're there…I can have them meet us…at, at, Jackson's Hollow?"

Brown squinted at him for a moment. "I'll pick the location," he decided, and smiled to see Bo slump further. Senior FBI Agent Derek Brown wouldn't be tricked into an ambush. "Get him upstairs to a phone, and get me a map. Don't let anyone see him," he ordered, "and get her back in her cell." Two men hauled Bo to his feet and half-shoved, half-carried him up the stairs. Once Daisy was again locked up, the other men followed, but Brown held one back. "Go over to the switchboard operator and listen in on the line. I want to make sure he doesn't try anything."

Bo was brought into Rosco's private office, and his captors cut his bonds, drawing their handguns in case he tried to escape. He made no move, though, and only sat there staring at the desk in misery, lower lip trembling. Brown looked over a map, and found the perfect location. They could make the kill and dispose of the bodies in one fell swoop. Once his man at the town switchboard was ready, Brown entered Rosco's office and announced his selection.

"Tell them to meet us at Wyle's Lake, at the high cliffs on the southern end."

Bo nodded meekly, and one of his guards picked up the phone and placed it in front of him. He took a deep breath, picked up the receiver, and dialed the number he'd already memorized.

"This is…this is Bo Duke. Could I speak to Jesse Duke, please?" he asked shakily to the female voice who answered.

A moment later, Brown's eavesdropper at the switchboard heard the gruff voice at the other end of the line. "_Bo? Are you alright? Where have you been, we've been worried sick!_"

"I'm okay, Uncle Jesse. Listen, can you…can you come pick me up? I…I hurt my leg when the horse threw me last night."

"_Well of course! Where are you?_"

"I'm hiding in town right now, but Cooter's brother B.B. is gonna give me a ride in a little bit. Can you meet us at Wyle's Lake? I don't want him to know where we're staying, in case…in case the feds follow us," Bo finished lamely.

"_Alright, I'll go get Luke, and we'll be out there in…two hours, maybe?_"

"Alright, Uncle Jesse, we'll see you there. Be careful. I…I love you."

"_I love you too, Bo._"

Bo cringed as he hung up the phone. "Two hours," he informed Brown hoarsely.

The senior agent slapped him on the shoulder. "That wasn't so hard, was it, boy? Lock him back up," Brown ordered his men. He could taste that $500,000 already.

**Well, I'm sure at a loss for words. Can you believe Bo just did what he did? Well, me neither.**

* * *


	12. Endings and Partings

* * *

**Chapter 12: Endings and Partings**

When Bo was escorted back into the cell with Cooter, Daisy knew by the look on his face what he had done. She looked away, refusing to meet his blue eyes pleading for understanding. Once the guard had left, Bo sat down miserably on the floor next to Cooter's cot. He wasn't sure just how much the mechanic knew about what was going on, until Cooter shoved him away with one hand. Bo looked back and his insides twisted at the betrayed and disgusted expression on his friend's face. Cooter had endured a lot for the Duke family, and Bo had revealed the secret his broken jaw had kept safe. Daisy still refused to look at him, and he saw tears welling in her eyes. His wool coat lay crumpled on the floor where she'd thrown it. Looking for all the world like a whipped puppy, Bo settled against the wall away from Cooter and Daisy both, holding his knees tight and burying his face in his arms.

Daisy saw him shaking out of the corner of her eye, and risked a direct look. He was shuddering with quiet sobs. One part of her wanted to say something comforting, but another part of her wanted to yell and shout at him like never before. How could he do such a fool thing? There was always, _always_ a chance, no matter what scrapes they got into! Maybe Daisy had given her cousin too much credit for his efforts since this all began. Maybe it didn't take much thought for a country boy to tangle a hound's scent trail, and only brute strength to endure the long cross-country runs and horseback rides to run Uncle Jesse's errands. She shook her head sadly as his sobs eased, and Daisy realized he'd fallen asleep. He was lucky then. Every minute without a doctor's attention was misery for Cooter, and the waiting was grinding Daisy's patience to the quick. She didn't disturb him, though that same part of her wanted to – she's worry about wringing his neck _after_ they escaped from Brown & Company.

It was only an hour later, maybe noon, that Brown and his men roused the prisoners for the drive to the lake. Bo looked up from his place by the wall when they unlocked the cell door. The snatch of sleep hadn't done him much good, Daisy thought. He looked at their captors will a dull, defeated expression and made no fight when they ordered him to his feet. He'd made no attempt to clean off the dried blood at his nose, and looked quite pathetic overall. They tied his hands behind his back again and marched him out of the cell, doing the same to Daisy and Cooter. The miserable mechanic had to be held up by men at both sides to keep from falling, and Daisy thought he still might pass out. Then all three were brought upstairs to the cars waiting outside.

Brown smiled wickedly to see Bo's crushed expression and Daisy's continuing refusal to look in his direction. Bo even flinched when Daisy angrily brushed right past him to climb in next to Cooter in the first car. Brown waved a motion for Bo to be put into the second car instead. Then they were off. Brown didn't take all his men with him, only enough to fill the two sedans and the pickup truck, while the rest remained at the sheriff's department. Rosco and Enos were nowhere in sight, presumably still in the south end of the county where Brown had sent them to search.

The drive to the lake was quiet. Daisy divided her attention between Cooter, who was ghost-pale and silent beside her, and watching the familiar scenery pass by for what she hoped wasn't the last time. She was surprised when she realized their destination, remembering too well the events of the previous summer. It was appropriate, she thought, and gave a certain finality to it all – finishing this ordeal in the same place it had all started.

When they reached the lake, the vehicles rumbled along the dirt road circling the calm water, parking above the beachfront close to the entrance. The prisoners were herded from the cars, looking around in hope or fear. There was no one in sight. Brown approached Bo once his men had reported in.

"Where are they, boy?" he growled menacingly.

Bo bowed his head. "We're early. They might not be here yet."

Even as he spoke, the rumbling sound of an engine echoed across the lake, and a grey sedan pulled into view at the top of the cliffs on the far side. Brown's men hid from sight as two figures climbed out, looking around. Daisy's heart sank; one was dressed in denim overalls and a distinctive red cap, and the tall dark-haired one had to be Luke. One thug with binoculars confirmed their identities, looking far out across the lake. Brown pushed Bo forward from the trees.

"Call to them. Get them over here."

With a downcast look at Daisy, Bo cleared his throat and hollered at the top of his lungs, waving one arm. "Uncle Jesse! Over here!"

The figures sighted him and climbed back into the car, and soon it was rumbling down the dirt road around the lake. Daisy could only watch in horror. Cooter, at that moment, passed out, and his escorts let him crumple to the ground next to the pickup truck, unable or unwilling to hold him up. Somewhere in the bushes, something that sounded not quite like a brown trasher trilled. Furious, Daisy launched herself at Bo, knocking him to the ground despite her tied hands. Somehow, though, his hands were free, and he rolled with her assault, shoving her into the cover of the bushes.

"Stay down!" he ordered, climbing to his knees and looking around.

The calm late morning air had exploded all around them.

At the trilling signal, men in black and green camouflage burst out of the trees all around them, assault rifles at the ready. Brown's men fired back, using the vehicles for cover, surrounded on all sides. Bo looked up in time to meet Derek Brown's eyes, his face twisted in an ugly snarl as he spotted the Duke cousin. Both charged to reach the other, Brown for revenge, Bo to protect Daisy and Cooter. They collided like two freight trains in the middle of the fracas, crashing to the ground and wrestling as Brown tried to bring his gun to bear. Bo managed to knock the gun away, but left himself open to Brown's heavy fist, and was sent sprawling. He scrambled back to his feet while Brown went for the gun, and desperately tackled the rotten agent's legs. Brown went down again, and this time Bo came out on top, slugging the man for all he was worth with a heavy right fist. Then the muzzle of a rifle appeared in front of Bo's nose and he looked up, wide-eyed. It was Jack Carter, painted in camouflage like his men, and his rifle was pointed at Brown, not Bo.

Bo held Brown, one knee on the man's chest, while Carter handcuffed him, and then looked around. The fighting was done; Carter's men outnumbered Brown's two to one, and the ambush had done its job. Two green-painted men knelt by Cooter, a med kit on the ground beside them, while others gathered handcuffed prisoners on the beachfront. Bo walked over to where Daisy sat. It wasn't until he tried pulling her to her feet that he noticed his left arm hanging at the same odd angle, dislocated again. One of those tackles must have done it. Bo cut Daisy's bonds one-handed with a borrowed knife as she gaped at him wordlessly, and when she was free, she threw her arms around his neck.

"Oh Bo! I thought you…I couldn't believe it…I'm so sorry!"

Bo hugged her back with his good arm, grinning as a laugh worked its way out of him. "It's alright, cuz. All part of the plan."

Daisy stepped back and looked up at him. "I thought you said getting captured wasn't part of that plan?" she asked half-accusingly.

"Well, getting captured before getting _you_ free wasn't, but I had to work with what I got!"

The grey sedan from across the lake had reached the gathering by now, and Jed Hawkins and Henry walked towards the Duke cousins, dressed in Luke and Jesse's clothes. Bo introduced them, and Daisy greeted both warmly with enthusiastic hugs. While Bo watched with a grin, a green-painted medic stepped up to his side, holding the med kit.

"Sir?" the medic got his attention, and Bo followed him over to the pickup truck, sitting patiently on the tailgate while the man reset his shoulder and handed him a wad of gauze for his broken nose, which was heavily streaming blood again. The knuckles on Bo's right hand were split down to the bone, courtesy of Brown's face, and the medic also tended these and a half-dozen other minor hurts he'd accumulated.

Bo looked around while he worked, smiling to see young Jack Carter in charge of the scene, giving orders with authority to the men around him. He overheard a radio transmission from an agent – a real agent – back in town, reporting that Brown's men there had been likewise mopped up and were cooling their heels in the crammed jail cells. It sounded like Rosco and Enos had returned just in time to get mixed up in the ambush, and Bo figured it would take some explaining to convince Rosco of which side was telling the truth. Bo chuckled at the thought – better Carter than him.

When the medic was done, securing his left arm in a sling until his shoulder could be examined, Bo saw Cooter being loaded into a waiting ambulance. He motioned over to Daisy, Henry, and Jed, and they quickly agreed that the Duke cousins would ride with their friend to the hospital, with Jed and Henry following behind. Carter joined the discussion with words of thanks to Bo and Henry both, and promised to catch up with them later on. Then Daisy and Bo climbed into the back of the ambulance. As the door was shut and they rumbled off, Bo noticed his headache was finally gone, and he smiled, very pleased with himself.

**Hoo-eee! _That_ was some bear trap! Bo even had me going there for a bit – I'm thinkin' that boy would have a career in Hollywood if he wanted it.**

---------------

Jesse Duke sat beside his sleeping nephew's bed, trying very hard not to look at the clock on the wall. He'd hardly finished worrying himself to death over Luke the night before, when Jed Hawkin's man Henry had arrived at the hospital with the news that Bo had been captured. Luke had just been moved out of ICU, conscious and breathing on his own – albeit still on an oxygen rebreather mask and a slue of IV antibiotics. He lay with the head of the bed raised so he was nearly sitting up, all the easier to breathe. Jesse left his side long enough to hear the news from Henry and Jed, and to contact Carter at the number Henry gave him. When Carter had explained Bo's plan, Jesse became worried all over again. Then this morning, Carter called with an update, and Henry and Jed had left to help, while Jesse watched the minutes tick by. Now it was nearly two p.m., and he should have heard something by now.

Luke stirred and opened his eyes, looking over at his uncle. The last few days had hardly been more than a blend of dreams and waking nightmares to him, but after Henry and Jed left, he'd hoarsely insisted that Jesse tell him everything that was going on. He was worried about Bo as well, but not so much as his uncle – he knew his cousin had a good head on his shoulders, when it came down to it, and Jesse's full story of the last few days had only boosted his confidence in Bo.

"Any news?" he asked in a raspy whisper through the mask covering his mouth and nose. His throat was raw, his chest sore, and he ached all over – that rib was still broken too - but he could hardly believe it when Jesse told him how sick he'd been.

The elder man looked down and saw his nephew was awake, and shook his head. "Nothing yet."

He had hardly spoken when a long-haired figure in short shorts stepped cautiously into the doorway, peering to see if she had the right room. "Uncle Jesse! Luke!" Daisy ran forward as Jesse rose to meet her, pulling her into a fierce hug.

"Oh Daisy, honey! Are you alright? Where's Bo?" Jesse asked, reluctant to let go of his little girl. It had been nearly four days since he'd seen her last, and a long four days at that.

"I'm just fine, Uncle Jesse," Daisy assured him, moving over to Luke's side and taking his hand. "Bo's downstairs somewhere, gettin' fixed up. How you feelin', Luke?" He looked awful to her eyes, but she hadn't seen him the day before.

"Better, thanks," Luke rasped, moving the mask off to speak more clearly. "How did everything go?"

"Did you know about Bo's plan too?" Daisy asked, looking from Luke to Jesse in surprise. "Seems like I'm the only one he didn't tell! No, everything worked out fine, though poor Cooter's gonna be hurtin' for a while." She explained quickly about his injuries, and told them he was already getting worked on.

"What about Bo? Was he hurt? Luke, put that mask back on, it's there for a reason," Jesse scolded.

"Bo is fine," the blond nephew in question announced from the doorway, strolling in with a wide grin. His arm was still in a sling, under orders to rest it from the doctors downstairs. His right hand was wrapped in gauze, covering his torn knuckles. "Couple of stitches, busted shoulder, and a heck of a lot of cotton shoved up my nose to stop the bleeding," he tallied, sporting an assortment of bruises and smaller cuts from the morning's painful interrogation as well. The cotton packing was none too comfortable, but after his nosebleed had continued strong for the full hour until the emergency room doctors saw him, he was glad of it. Jesse pulled him into a fierce hug as well, before releasing him to see his cousin.

Bo looked Luke over with hopeful concern. "You look better," he finally declared.

Luke smiled and stifled a sore laugh. Bo's words were a far understatement.

The Duke family talked for the better part of an hour and a half, pulling up chairs and catching up. Daisy made light of Bo's convincing performance back at the jailhouse, and Luke tried not to laugh at her descriptions. Bo blushed more than once at Jesse and Daisy's praise, but they were all three proud of him, and Luke commended him for his ambush plan. After a while, though, Jesse noticed Luke starting to grow tired again. Like a good uncle, he herded his youngest nephew and niece out of the room so Luke could rest, with the excuse of looking for Cooter to find out how he was doing.

Cooter was sleeping when they found his room, on strong painkillers, the doctor told them. The bone had been re-set and his jaw wired firmly in place, and with some rest, he'd be allowed to go home in a day or two. Of course, he'd be taking his meals through a straw for the next month, but Bo doubted the injury would slow his gregarious friend for long.

They returned to Luke's room to give him the update, only to find him sound asleep. Back out in the hallway, Henry, Jed and John Hawkins found them, and Jed suggested they get something to eat. Against Jesse's objections, John paid for their dinner at a nearby restaurant. Many thankful prayers were said at the table that afternoon. Later, after visiting with Luke again, Henry drove Bo and Daisy home to the farmhouse. They ignored most of the wreckage for the time being, said their goodnights and went to bed early, both glad to be back in their own beds again. Jesse stayed for one more night at the hospital, taking no argument from any of them.

-------------------------------

The next morning – Wednesday morning – after a trip to visit Cooter and Luke both at the hospital in Daisy's newly returned Dixie, she and Bo began the task of tying up the loose ends of the whole ordeal. They checked in with Rosco and Enos, the former muttering and avoiding them when he saw them, the latter delighted to be proven wrong yet again. Boss Hogg, they heard, was roaringly angry over losing his reward money for their capture, but neither of them made a point of searching him out. They stopped at Bentley's Caves and gathered the belongings left untouched by Brown's men, and stopped to thank the Kellers again on their way home. Henry had already returned Black Morgan safe and sound, and Bo held no ill will against the horse for acting like a horse, even if he was an ornery one.

Back at the farmhouse, they began picking up the wreckage left by Brown's men, making a small pile of broken items on the kitchen table. It was while they sorted and cleaned that Daisy heard Bo start coughing, and when his cough repeated a little later, she immediately sent him to bed. He was still sleeping when she finished cleaning and Jesse arrived, finally convinced by Luke to go home. Luke was stronger by the hour, no longer dependent on supplemental oxygen and able to move about his room a bit on his own. Jesse checked in on Bo and called Doc Appleby to come have a look at him – he wasn't about to take chances, after seeing Luke sick like that. While Daisy worked on a pot of chicken soup for dinner, Appleby came and went, leaving orders for Bo to rest and drink plenty of fluids, and to call him if he got worse. Jesse, Bo, and Daisy were all in bed early again that night.

Thursday, Cooter was discharged from the hospital, and Jesse drove out to pick him up in his truck. Cooter was back to his old self, though quieter than usual, and Jesse left him in the care of his family at the farm. Luke was surprised to hear that Bo was sick now as well, coughing worse this morning. Doc Appleby was called back after lunch, and this time gave a diagnosis of bronchitis, leaving a regimen of antibiotics behind and orders to go to the hospital if Bo started having trouble breathing. It was Friday afternoon before Luke was released to Jesse's care. Jesse kept Bo and Luke both strictly confined to bed, and though Luke was now used to the idea, Bo made a pretty irritable patient. Fortunately they had to make no hospital trips in the next week, though Bo was still sick even after Luke was back on his feet.

The next Thursday, a day shy of one week since Luke had come home, was Thanksgiving Day. Daisy ended up heading into the hills to hunt a turkey for the feast, while Uncle Jesse cooked up some side dishes and Luke worked on small chores around the house and farm. Quietly he slipped into his darkened bedroom and left Bo a mug of warm tea on the nighttable, liberally laced with a shot of Uncle Jesse's finest. Half of Bo's bad mood came from trouble sleeping with the constant cough, and that whiskey ought to knock him out cold for the afternoon. The other half of Bo's bad mood came from a heartache Luke shared – the continued absence of the General Lee. Agent Carter had visited over the weekend with news of the case, the thanks of his superiors, and a hefty check for Uncle Jesse covering the boys' bills, a reward, and repairs to the General. He'd given a similar check to Cooter for his bills and the replacement of the ruined car parts. Unfortunately, Carter told them, the General would have to remain impounded for evidence until Brown's trial was complete – news Bo had not taken very well, with an angry and vocal protest cut off by a fierce coughing fit.

Luke was headed out to the barn to tackle Maudine the mule's stall, when he heard a familiar sound that stopped him in his tracks. His jaw dropped speechlessly as a bright orange '69 Dodge Charger roared up the drive from the road, sliding to a dusty halt in front of the farmhouse. As Luke walked over, the engine cut and Cooter climbed out of the driver's seat, grinning as broadly as his wired jaw would allow. Of course, he had long since forgiven Bo for the scene in the jail cell.

"Cooter! How…? They…?" Luke was at a loss for words, running his hands over the finely waxed gleaming finish. "Carter told us it would be months!" he finally exclaimed, looking inside at the new upholstery. There was no sign at all of the awful crime inside.

"Ah'know," Cooter gave a muffled reply as best he could, "E'got shum 'ellas in, took 'ictures, took the sheats when Ah 'ulled 'em ou', an' gave h'm t'me Tshueshday – shaid 'ey had 'll the evidenshe 'ey need."

"You're one in a million, Cooter! Bo's gonna love this! Come on in, I'll see if he's up."

Luke bounded inside, full of energy, though he quieted his steps as he approached the bedroom door. Peering inside, he saw the mug empty and Bo sleeping quietly, and decided against waking him. Not even the General was that important. Closing the door quietly, he returned to the kitchen, where Jesse was thanking Cooter again. When they saw Luke return alone, they both reckoned his results, and Jesse turned back to Cooter, inviting him to stay for dinner. When Cooter refused, citing his jaw, Jesse appealed again.

"Are you sure? I've got some crawdad bisque on here," he lifted the lid to one pot simmering on the stovetop. The smell was enough to make Cooter reconsider and happily accept.

"Plus, you can be here when Bo sees the General. He's sure gonna want to thank you!" Luke added.

Daisy came home shortly after that bearing a medium-sized turkey, which she quickly cleaned and put in the waiting oven. Cooter passed the afternoon helping Luke with his chores, which still tired out the eldest Duke cousin. Hours later, while Daisy set the table, Bo emerged sleepily from the bedroom, headed for the bathroom to wash up. About fifteen minutes later, Luke and Cooter passed him, clean and dressed, as they went in to wash their hands and he walked out towards the living room. They both chuckled when they heard his yelp of surprise from out front, followed by the front door banging shut, and Uncle Jesse yelling after him to get back inside and put some shoes on. After inspecting his beloved car, Bo obeyed, entering the kitchen again just as Luke and Cooter did. Luke hadn't seen such a delighted grin on his face in oh, two weeks, since mudding in Chickasaw.

"Cooter! Did you bring the General back?.!" Bo asked. He didn't wait for an answer, but grabbed the mechanic in a fierce bear hug. Even a brief coughing fit didn't douse his enthusiasm. It was better than Christmas.

"Well, are you boys gonna stand there all day?" Daisy chided as she set the roasted turkey on the table amidst the other dishes. Only slightly chastened, the boys all took their seats and waited as Uncle Jesse sat down at the head of the table. All five folded their hands and bowed their heads as Jesse said grace.

"Dear Lord, we thank thee for this bounteous feast before us, and for keeping our family and friends safe this year. Bless us, Lord, in these months to come, that we may have the strength to stay united and overcome. Amen."

The meal was long and lazy, and the boys especially lingered, picking at bits here and there. Cooter had to be content with his crawdad bisque, which was a far sight better than his other meals of late. At last, though, even Bo was done picking, and they all retired to the family room, discussing this and that.

Luke's crowning achievement of the evening was convincing Uncle Jesse to let him drive Cooter home, and more still, to take Bo with him. Both boys were in sore need of getting out of the house, and after much pleading, Jesse relented, as long as Luke drove. He fussed a bit as they got ready to go, making Bo put on an extra jacket, still not quite ready to let either one of them out of his sight – especially after their lastride in the General! Still giving assurances that it was just a little trip down the road, Cooter, Luke, and Bo headed out the door, the latter two running to jump into the car once more. Bo climbed in the back seat to leave Cooter the front, Luke turned the key, and they were off.

Once out of sight from the farmhouse, Bo leaned forward and tapped Luke's shoulder with a grin. "Hey Luke, how 'bout we make a little detour on the way back?…"

"Just what I was thinkin', cuz."

**Well, if that don't beat all! Just goes to show, you can't keep a good Duke down – that is to say, any Duke at all. See y'all next time!**

**-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

**The End**


End file.
